WITH  CARSON 
AN  D  FREMONT 


EDWIN 
L.SABIN 


WITH  CARSON  AND 
FREMONT 


SECOND   EDITION 


THE 

"TRAIL  BLAZERS"  SERIES 
CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH 

By  C.  H.  FORBES-LINDSAY 

An  interesting  work  on  the  life  and  times  of 
this  famous  soldier  of  fortune  and  American 
colonist,  intended  primarily  for  the  young,  but 
of  such  a  character  as  to  appeal  to  all. 

With  Four  full-page  Illustrations  in  Color  by 
HARRY    B.  LACHMAN 

xamo.    Cloth,  $1.50 

DANIEL    BOONE,  %>COKDSMAN 
By  C.  H.  FORBES-LINDSAY 

It  is  such  a  story  of  stirring  adventure  in  the 
wilderness,  based  as  it  is  on  solid  fact,  that 
makes  one  thrill  with  pride  in  the  bravery  and 
manhood  of  the  pioneers. 

With  Four  full-page  Illustrations  by 
FRANK   MCKERNAN 
xamo.    Cloth,  $1.50 

DAVID   CROCKETT,  SCOUT 

By  CHARLES  FLETCHER  ALLEN 

A  story  setting  forth  all  Davy's  versatility 
and  recounting  his  many  exploits  in  the  East 
and  in  the  new  South- West.  It  tells  of  him  as 
Indian  Fighter,  Bear  Hunter,  Statesman,  and 
Defender  of  the  Alamo. 

With  Four  full-page  Illustrations  by 
FRANK   MCKERNAN 

i2mo.    Cloth,  $1.90 


'WE  TAUGHT  THOSE   THAR  RED  DEMONS  A  LESSON   THEY  LL  NOT  FORGET.  ' 

Page  36 


WITH   CARSON 
AND  FREMONT 


BEING  THE  ADVENTURES,  IN  THE  YEARS  l842-'43-*44. 
ON  TRAIL  OVER  MOUNTAINS  AND  THROUGH  DESERTS 
FROM  THE  EAST  OF  THE  ROCKIES  TO  THE  WEST  OK 
THE  SIERRAS,  OF  SCOUT  CHRISTOPHER  CARSON  AND 
LIEUTENANT  JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT,  LEADING 
THEIR  BRAVE  COMPANY  INCLUDING  THE  BOY  OLIVER 


BY 

EDWIN  L.  SABIN 

AUTHOR  OF  "BAR  B.  BOYS,"  "THE  MAGIC  MASHIE, 
"  BEAUFORT  CHUMS,"  ETC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

CHARLES  H.  STEPHENS 

AND  PORTRAITS 

1  We  live  in  deeds,  not  years." 

— PHILIP  JAMES  BAILEY 


PHILADELPHIA  &   LONDON 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


1913 


:-    : 
Sn«r>Nt 


COPYRIGHT,   IQI2,  BY  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


PUBLISHED,   OCTOBER,   IpI2 


PRINTED  BY  J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT  COMPANV 

AT  THE  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PRESS 

PHILADELPHIA,   U.  S.  A. 


U.  0. 

ACADEMY  OF 
PACIFIC  COAST 

HISTORY 


TO  THAT   BOYS'    BEST   FRIEND 

THE  MOTHER 

AND    IN    PARTICULAR   TO    MY    OWN    MOTHER 

ESTHER  FRANCES  SABIN 

ABOUT  WHOSE  GRACIOUS  NAME 
CLINGS  THE  EVERLASTING 
SWEETNESS  OF  HER  MEMORY 


PREFACE 


THE  trail  journals  of  the  first  two  government  ex 
ploring  expeditions  commanded  by  Lieutenant  John 
Charles  Fremont,  of  the  United  States  Engineers,  and 
advised  by  Kit  Carson,  mountain-man,  are  to  be  found 
together  published,  spring  of  1845,  as  reports  trans 
mitted  by  the  Secretary  of  War  to  the  National  Senate 
and  House. 

These  journals,  recording  peril  and  privation 
faced  for  the  wide  public  good  and  not  for  narrow 
private  gain,  occupy  their  honored  niche  among  the 
golden  archives  of  the  Republic,  and  should  be  better 
known  in  American  school  and  home.  The  trails 
themselves  are  eternal,  denoted  by  names  which  have 
endured,  many  of  them,  unto  this  day.  Of  the  men 
who  may  proudly  and  truthfully  say,  "  I  was  with 
Fremont,"  or  "  I  was  with  Carson/'  few  indeed  re 
main  ;  and  they  will  soon  be  gone,  for  man  passes  on, 
while  that  which  he  has  wrought  survives. 

The  Oliver  Wiggins  in  this  narrative  is  real.  I 
have  talked  with  him.  He  was  the  little  boy  under 
the  wagon,  and  he  was  the  Taos  lad  who  won  the 
Kit  Carson  rifle;  he  was  upon  the  Fremont  and 
Carson  First  Expedition,  and  he  was  upon  the  Second 

5 


PREFACE 

Expedition,  by  way  of  the  Salt  Lake  to  Fort  Hall. 
However,  there  he  turned  back,  with  the  other  Carson 
men.  In  taking  him  through,  as  in  having  him  ascend 
the  highest  peak,  voyage  the  Salt  Lake  in  the  rubber 
boat,  and  be  prominent  in  various  such  adventures,  I 
have  added  to  his  biography  as  told  to  me.  Yet  in 
these  credits  I  have  not  exalted  him  more  than  is  his 
due,  for  brave  men  rarely  tell  of  all  that  they  have 
done  well. 

The  other  personages  also  are  real,  as  members 
of  the  Fremont  or  of  the  Carson  party.  Some  of  the 
conversation  is  quoted  from  the  Fremont  reports;  the 
remainder  is  applied  according  to  the  characteristics 
of  the  speakers,  or  is  adapted  from  sentiments  ex 
pressed  at  divers  times  and  places.  The  incidents  of 
course  are.  based  upon  the  Fremont  journals,  with  side 
lights  from  the  recollections  of  Major  Wiggins,  and 
from  the  Fremorit  "  Memoirs  of  My  Life,"  and  like 
chronicles  bearing  upon  the  day. 

The  two  principals,  Lieutenant  (later  Captain, 
Colonel  and  General)  Fremont,  and  Scout  (later  Col 
onel  and  General)  Christopher  Carson,  thought  highly 
each  of  the  other;  and  this  is  warrant  that  they  were 
manly  men.  Manly  men  respect  manly  men.  Lieu 
tenant  Fremont  said :  "  With  me,  Carson  and  truth 
are  the  same  thing;"  and  he  refers  to  their  "endur 
ing  friendship."  Kit  Carson  left  all — new  ranch, 
home,  wife,  dear  associates — which,  save  honor,  he 
valued  most,  to  accompany  the  lieutenant  upon  a 

6 


PREFACE 

Third  Expedition,  and  in  every  crisis  of  march,  camp, 
battle  and  politics  he  stuck  stanchly  to  him.  "  I  owe 
more  to  Colonel  Fremont  than  to'  any  other  man 
alive,"  he  declared.  Thus  friend  should  stand  by 
friend. 

This  Third  Expedition,  of  1845-1846,  again  into 
the  Great  Basin  and  across  the  Sierra  Nevada  Range 
to  the  Valley  of  the  Sacramento,  was  timed  to  the 
conquest  of  California  by  American  arms;  but  it  is 
another  long  story.  Following  the  Third  Expedition, 
having  resigned  from  the  Army  Colonel  Fremont,  in 
1848—1849,  voluntarily  conducted  a  Fourth  Expedi 
tion,  upon  which  many  lives  were  lost  to  cold  and 
hunger  amidst  the  winter  mountains  of  south  central 
Colorado;  and  in  1853-1854,  a  Fifth  Expedition,  once 
more  across  the  Great  Basin  to  California.  In  these 
two  expeditions  Kit  Carson  did  not  take  part.  He 
had  the  duties  of  home,  and  family,  which  also  are 
man's  duties;  and  the  duties  of  agent  over  the  Ute 
and  Apache  Indians. 

After  that,  came  Civil  War  service  for  both 
friends,  in  fields  separate. 

EDWIN  L.  SABIN. 

SAN  DIEGO,  CALIFORNIA. 
May  15,  1912. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAQB 

I.     KIT  CARSON  TO  THE  RESCUE 17 

II.    UNDER  THE  WAGON 30 

III.  OLIVER  WINS  His  SPURS 43 

IV.  WORD  FROM  OLD  FORT  LARAMIE 56 

V.    FREMONT  SAYS  "ONWARD!" 68 

VI.    INTO  THE  WILDER  WEST 87 

VII.    OVER  THE  FAMED  SOUTH  PASS  96 

VIII.    PLANTING  THE  HIGHEST  FLAG in 

IX.    THE  VOYAGING  OF  THE  PLATTE 124 

X.    FREMONT  CALLS  AGAIN 135 

XI.    IN  HOSTILE  TERRITORY 147 

XII.    THE  EMIGRANT  TRAIL 155 

XIII.  To  THE  GREAT  SALTY  LAKE 167 

XIV.  SAILING  THE  INLAND  SEA 178 

XV.    ON  TO  THE  COLUMBIA I92 

XVI.    SOUTHWARD  FOR  THE   UNKNOWN 203 

XVII.    SCANT  CHRISTMAS  COMFORT 216 

XVIII.    FORCING  THE  SNOWY  SIERRAS 225 

XIX.    AT  THE  LAST  GASP 235 

XX.    DOWN  THROUGH  CALIFORNIA 248 

XXI.    THE  VENGEANCE   OF  KIT  CARSON 259 

XXII.    POOR  TABEAU  PAYS  THE  PRICE 276 

XXIII.    THE  HOME  STRETCH 288 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

WE  TAUGHT  THOSE  THAR  RED  DEMONS  A  LESSON  THEY'LL 
NOT  FORGET    Frontispiece 

CHRISTOPHER  CARSON 22 

JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT 71 

THE  FIRST  BUFFALO  HAD  FALLEN  TO  THE  CRACK  OF  KIT 
CARSON'S  RIFLE 104 

As  THE  BOAT  CAME  WHIRLING  DOWN,  HELPLESS  AND  INERT, 
HEADS  BROKE  UP  AROUND  IT  , 130 

KIT  AND  THE  LIEUTENANT  SHOWED  THE  THREE,  BY  SIGNS, 

HOW  FROM  THE  RlFLES    AND    CARBINES    COULD    SPEED  A 

BULLET  AND  BORE  THEM  THROUGH  AND  THROUGH 232 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


CHRISTOPHER  CARSON 

Born  Madison  County,  Ky., 
December  25,  1809. 

Father  :  Lindsay  (Linsey)  Car 
son,  of  North  Carolina  and 
Kentucky. 

Mother  :  Rebecca  Robinson,  of 
Virginia. 

Reared  without  education,  on 
the  Missouri  frontier. 

Apprenticed  to  a  harness-maker 
at  Franklin,  Mo. — 1825. 

On  the  Santa  F6  Trail  at  Fifteen 
—1826. 


Interpreter  and  Teamster,  in 
New  Mexico  and  Old  Mexico 
— 1827-1829. 

Trapper  to  California  — 1829- 
1830. 

Rocky  Mountain  Trapper — 1830 
-1838. 


JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT 

January  21, 1813,  born  at  Savan 
nah,  Ga. 

Father  :  John  Charles  Fremont, 
of  France  and  of  Virginia. 


Mother :  Anne  Beverley  Pryor, 
of  Virginia. 

Educated  by  tutor  and  college  at 
Charleston,  S.  Carolina. 

1833-1836 — Teacher  of  Mathe 
matics  to  Midshipmen  on 
Sloop-of-War  Natchez. 

1836 — Commissioned  Professor 
of  Mathematics  in  the  Navy, 
Assigned  to  the  Frigate 
Independence. 

1837-1838 — Railroad  and  Army 
Surveyor. 

1 838 — Commissioned  Second 
Lieutenant,  Topographical  En 
gineers,  U.  S.  A. 

1838-1839 — Government  Survey 
of  Upper  Mississippi  River, 
under  J.  N.  Nicollet. 


13 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


CHRISTOPHER  CARSON 

Married  an  Arapahoe  Indian  girl 
—1835. 

Hunter  and  Captain  of  Trappers, 
at  Bent's  Fort  and  Taos — 
1838-1842. 

Hunter  with  the  Fremont  First 
Expedition — 1 842 . 


Married  Josefa  Jaramillo  of  Taos 
—1843. 


Hunter  and  General  Assistant 
with  Fremont  Second  Expe 
dition — 1843-1844. 

Goes  to  Ranching  in  New  Mexico 
—1845. 


JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT 

1841 — Married  Jessie  Benton  of 
Washington. 

1841 — Survey  of  Lower  Des 
Moines  River. 

1842 — First  Government  Ex 
ploring  Expedition,  to  the 
South  Pass  and  Fremont's 
Peak. 

1843-1844 — Second  Government 
Exploring  Expedition,  to  the 
Salt  Lake,  to  the  Columbia, 
south  through  California,  back 
by  the  Spanish  Trail  and  the 
Rocky  Mountains. 

1845 — Promoted  by  brevet  to 
First  Lieutenant  and  Captain. 

1845-1846— Third  Government 
Exploring  Expedition,  across 
the  Great  Basin  into  Northern 
California. 

1846 — As  Major  Commands  a 
Battalion  for  the  Conquest  of 
California. 

1846-1847 — Military  Comman 
der  and  Governor  of  California. 


Guide  and  General  Assistant 
with  the  Fremont  Third  Ex 
pedition — 1 845-1 846. 

Scout  and  Express  Bearer  under 
Colonel  Fremont,  Commodore 
Stockton  and  General  Kearny, 
in  the  Conquest  of  California 
— 1846. 

Express  Service  with  Despatches  1846 — Promoted  to  Lieutenant- 
Across  the  Continent  to  Wash-  Colonel  of  Mounted  Rifles, 
ington — 1847-1848.  U.S.A. 

14 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


CHRISTOPHER  CARSON 

Commissioned  Second  Lieuten 
ant  of  Mounted  Rifles,  U.S.A., 
but  the  Commission  not  con 
firmed — 1847. 

Serves  on  Outpost  Duty  in  Cali 
fornia — 1847. 

His  Express  Duty  of  1848  Com 
pleted,  Becomes  Private  Citi 
zen  at  Taos — 1848. 


Seeks  ranch  life  in  New  Mexico 
1849-1850. 

Scout  Duty  against  the  Indians, 
with  Army  Detachments — 
1850. 

Overland  to  California  with  a 
Drove  of  30,000  sheep — 1853. 

Government  Indian  Agent  over 
Utes  and  Apaches,  Quarters  at 
Taos — 1854-1860. 

Scout  Duty  against  the  Indians, 
with  Army  Detachments — 
1854-1855. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  and  Colonel, 
First  New  Mexican  Infantry, 
U.S.Vols.— 1861-1862. 

Colonel  of  First  New  Mexican 
Cavalry,  U.  S.  Vols.,  conduct 
ing  campaigns  against  the 
Apaches,  Navajos  and  Kiowas, 
New  Mexico  and  Arizona — 
1862-1864. 


JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT 

1847-1848 — Court-martialed  at 
Washington  for  Insubordina 
tion,  Found  Guilty,  but  Rec 
ommended  for  Leniency. 

1848 — Resigns  from  Army. 


1848-1849 — Fourth  Exploring 
Expedition,  into  the  Southern 
Colorado  Mountains  ;  thence 
Forced  Back,  and  to  California 
by  a  Southern  Route. 

1849-1850 — Seeks  ranch  life  in 
California. 

1850-1851 — Senator  from  Cali 
fornia. 

1851-1853 — California  and 
Europe. 

1853-1854 — Fifth  Exploring  Ex 
pedition,  across  the  Great 
Basin  of  Utah  and  Nevada  to 
California. 

1856 — Nominated  by  the  Re 
publican  Party  for  the  Presi 
dency.  Defeated  by  Buchanan. 

1 86 1 — Major-General,  Depart 
ment  of  the  West,  U.  S.  A., 
headquarters  at  St.  Louis. 

1862 — Resigns  from  Army,  after 
service  in  Command  of  the 
Mountain  Department  of  Vir- 
ginia,Tennessee  and  Kentucky. 


15 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


CHRISTOPHER  CARSON 

Military  Service  on  the  Santa 
F<§  Trail  and  Special  Commis 
sioner  to  treat  with  Cheyennes 
and  Arapahoes — 1865. 

Lieutenant  -  Colonel  ( Brigadier 
General  by  Brevet,  for  Distin 
guished  Service )  in  command 
at  Fort  Garland,  Colorado — 
1866-1867. 

Resigned  from  the  Army,  on  Ac 
count  of  111  Health — 1867. 

Special  Commissioner  to  Treat 
with  the  Utes,  at  Washington 
—1868. 

Died  at  New  Fort  Lyon,  Colo 
rado,  May  23,  1868. 


JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT 

1864 — Nominated  for  Presi 
dency.    Withdraws. 


1866-1878 — Railroad   Construc 
tion,  etc. 


1 878- 1*882 — Governorof  Arizona. 


1 890 — Appointed  Ma  jor-General, 
on  the  Retired  List. 


July  13,  1890,  died  in  New  York 
City. 


WITH   CARSON  AND 
FREMONT 

i 

KIT  CARSON  TO  THE  RESCUE 

IT  was  the  middle  of  November,  1840;  and  across 
the  sandy  face  of  southwestern  Kansas  was  toiling, 
outward  bound  from  Missouri,  a  Santa  Fe  caravan: 
fifty-two  huge,  creaking  canvas-topped  wagons,  drawn 
each  by  six  or  eight  span  of  mules  or  yoke  of  oxen. 

In  this  day  the  so-called  foreign  government  of 
Mexico  extended  north  through  New  Mexico  to  the 
Arkansas  River  in  Colorado  and  southwestern  Kan 
sas.  The  United  States  stopped  at  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains;  and,  moreover,  from  Missouri  to  the  Rockies 
all  was  "  Indian  Country  "  and  the  "  Great  American 
Desert."  From  Missouri  extended  two  long  roads 
or  trails,  separating  like  a  "  V  "  with  its  point  near 
present  Kansas  City.  Up  the  Platte  River,  for  the 
Northwest,  ran  the  old  trappers'  and  fur-traders'  trail, 
now  being  made  the  Oregon  Trail  of  emigrants.  Up 
the  Arkansas  River,  for  the  Southwest,  ran  the  trail 
of  the  Santa  Fe  caravans.  The  desolate,  unimproved 

2  17 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Great  American  Desert  was  like  a  sea;  and  across  this 
sea  sailed,  spring  and  fall,  upon  an  800  mile  voyage, 
fleets  of  American  wagons,  to  trade  with  the  capital 
of  northern  Mexico. 

They  took  out  cargoes  of  calico,  powder,  lead, 
flour,  shoes,  and  such  American  products ;  they  brought 
back,  at  profit  in  money  and  at  loss  in  life,  cargoes  of 
furs,  hides,  gold,  gay  blankets  and  such  Mexican 
products. 

This  caravan  of  November,  1840,  with  its  fifty- 
two  wagons  and  harnessed  teams,  had  at  the  beginning 
of  the  journey  stretched  out  in  a  line  almost  a  mile 
of  length.  Each  wagon  had  a  teamster.  Some  of  the 
teamsters  straddled  the  near  animal  of  the  wheel 
span  (the  span  next  to  the  wagon)  ;  others,  in  their 
boots  and  flannel  shirts  and  broad  hats,  walked  beside 
the  wagon;  horsemen,  escort  to  the  wagon-captain, 
who  was  the  boss  of  the  train,  led  the  march,  recon- 
noitering  ahead;  other  horsemen  paced  at  right  and 
left ;  and  at  the  rear  of  all,  upon  an  old  mule,  driving 
a  collection  of  loose  horses  and  mules,  rode  a  ragged 
little  boy — Oliver  Wiggins. 

This  was  Oliver's  place — in  the  dust,  at  the  tail  of 
the  long  caravan.  His  duty  was  to  herd  the  "  cavvy," 
as  was  styled  for  short  the  caballada  (Spanish  for 
horse-herd).  His  pay  was  five  dollars  a  month,  and 
the  fun  and  the  glory,  and  the  work,  of  fifty  days' 
travel,  at  the  rate  of  fifteen  miles  a  day,  across  the 
plains  of  sand  and  sage,  buffalo  and  antelope,  hunger 

18 


KIT  CARSON  TO  THE  RESCUE 

and  thirst,  storm  and  Indians,  to  strange  far-off 
Santa  Fe. 

At  first  the  march  had  been  very  pleasant.  The 
caravan  sometimes  had  spread  out  over  the  prairie  in 
formation  of  four  abreast.  By  day  the  teamsters  had 
sung  and  cracked  their  long  whips,  beside  the  wagons ; 
by  night  they  had  sung  and  told  stories,  beside  the 
camp-fires.  Everybody  had  been  happy.  But  within 
the  last  two  days  the  atmosphere  had  changed;  for 
there  had  come  riding  fast,  on  the  homeward  way 
from  Mexico,  two  traders,  and  had  left  the  word, 
with  the  captain : 

"  Watch  sharp !    The  Kiowas  are  out !  " 

That  was  enough.  Quickly  through  the  caravan 
spread  the  news — "  THE  KIOWAS  ARE  OUT  !  "  All 
carelessness,  all  singing,  ceased;  and  the  order  of 
march  was  made  double  file  or  two  abreast,  so  that  in 
case  of  attack  the  wagons  could  swing  to  right  and 
left  and  quickly  join  in  a  great  circle. 

The  Kiowas!  The  fiercest  fighting  Indians  of  the 
Southwest  plains  were  they,  outrivalled  by  neither 
Pawnee  nor  Comanche.  Their  name  was  terrible  to 
the  Santa  Fe  traders.  Their  range  was  southwestern 
Kansas  and  southeastern  Colorado,  thence  south  into 
the  dread  Comanche  country  below  the  Arkansas. 
When  the  caravan  had  left  Missouri,  the  Kiowas 
were  said  to  be  at  peace;  but  now  they  were  said,  on 
good  authority,  to  be  not  at  peace,  and  well  might 
Wagon-Captain  Blunt  worry.  He  had  a  lot  of  green 

19 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

teamsters,  poorly  armed  with  old  smooth-bore  yagers ; 
and  whether,  if  given  time  to  form  a  circle  of  wagons, 
they  could  beat  off  the  painted  warriors,  he  did  not 
know. 

Holding  the  rear  of  all,  boy  Oliver  Wiggins,  aged 
thirteen,  left  to  the  dust  and  the  shuffling  loose  stock 
(defenseless  beasts,  a  prize  for  the  Indians),  also  well 
might  worry.  He  wished  now  that  he  had  not  run  away 
from  home ;  and  he  began  to  wonder  whether,  after  all, 
his  pistol,  about  the  size  of  the  palm  of  his  hand,  was 
large  enough.  This  pistol  had  seemed  to  him  weapon 
in  plenty  for  fighting  Indians,  in  Missouri;  but  the 
farther  from  Missouri  he  journeyed,  and  the  more 
stories  he  heard,  the  smaller  the  pistol  grew. 

Here  in  southwestern  Kansas  of  to-day  the  Santa 
Fe  Trail  veered  south,  beyond  the  Great  Bend  of  the 
river,  to  cross  and  to  head  for  the  Cimarron  Desert 
and  for  New  Mexico.  This,  the  Crossing  of  the  Ar 
kansas,  was  half  way  to  Santa  Fe ;  but  the  half  already 
covered  was  the  easy  half,  the  half  to  come  was  the 
dry,  thirsty  half,  and  the  Kiowa  and  Comanche  half. 

Through  the  shallow  water  and  the  quick-sands 
forged  the  wagons  of  the  Blunt  caravan,  upon  the 
farther  bank  to  halt,  for  camp  and  to  fill  the  water- 
casks.  The  sun  was  low  and  red  in  the  west,  the  long, 
high  white-hooded  wagons  had  been  parked  in  the 
customary  circle,  outside  the  circle  camp-fires  were 
curling,  pots  were  bubbling,  meat  was  hissing,  and 
before  each  camp  tethered  animals  were  grazing;  sen- 

20 


KIT  CARSON  TO  THE  RESCUE 

tries  had  been  posted,  and  boy  Oliver,  hungry  and 
grimy,  was  guarding  his  browsing  cavvy,  when  a 
sudden  commotion  struck  the  peaceful  scene.  A  sen 
tinel  upon  a  sand-hill  fired  his  gun  to  signal  "  Injuns! 
Injuns!"  and  rushed  like  wild-fire  the  word.  Every 
teamster  sprang  to  round  up  his  picketed  team,  or  to 
help  collect  the  oxen ;  the  sentries  came  in  at  a  gallop ; 
and  men  sped  to  help  Oliver  with  the  cavvy.  Through 
the  opening  left  in  the  circle  of  wagons  poured  men 
and  animals,  from  outside  to  inside.  And  against  the 
sunset  glow  could  be  descried  a  long  file  of  black 
mounted  figures,  approaching  at  rapid  trot. 

However,  Captain  Blunt,  viewing  them  by  spy 
glass,  shouted  thankfully: 

"  Not  Injuns,  men !    Whites !    Look  like  traders." 

Whereupon  a  sigh  of  relief  swept  the  tense  cordon. 

The  cordon  did  not  dare  yet  to  open  out  again; 
nevertheless,  as  the  riders  across  the  rolling  sand-hills 
neared,  they  were  seen  by  the  naked  eye  to  be  whites 
indeed.  They  resolved  into  a  double  file  of  horsemen : 
trapper-clad  in  fringed  buckskin  shirts  and  leggins,  in 
broad-brimmed  hats,  in  moccasins,  and  every  man  car 
ried  across  his  saddle-horn  a  tremendously  long  rifle. 

"  Mountain-men !  Trappers !  "  announced  Team 
ster  "  Dutch  "  Jake,  in  Oliver's  hearing.  "  Now  if  we 
only  had  th^em  with  us !  " 

"  They're  the  chaps  to  make  the  Injuns  stand 
'round,"  agreed  another.  And  many  a  head  nodded. 

The  cavalcade  was  within  gun-shot.  A  man  riding 
SI 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

alone  was  leader;  and  as  on  they  came,  at  the  steady, 
fast  "  rack  "  or  single-foot,  straight  for  the  camp,  he 
held  up  his  hand,  palm  outward,  in  a  peace  sign. 

"High  jinks!  I  know  that  man!"  exclaimed 
"  Dutch  "  Jake.  And  he  added :  "  If  it  only  be,  now." 

Captain  Blunt  and  two  or  three  of  his  lieutenants, 
carrying  their  guns,  walked  outside  a  few  steps  to  meet 
this  leader.  The  conversation  was  wafted  clearly 
through  the  still,  dry  air,  while  all  the  camp  listened. 

"Howdy?" 

"Howdy?" 

"  Who's  yore  captain  ?  "    This  from  the  horseman. 

"  I'm  the  captain."    This  from  Blunt. 

"  Wall,  my  name's  Kit  Carson.  We've  come  over 
from  Touse  to  ride  the  trail  through  Kiowa  country, 
with  anybody  that  needs  us.  S'pose  you  know  the 
Kiowas  air  bad  ?  " 

"  So  we've  heard.  And  we're  mighty  glad  to  see 
you,  Mr.  Carson,"  declared  Captain  Blunt,  reaching 
up  and  shaking  hands  heartily. 

Kit  Carson !  Kit  Carson !  The  name  passed  from 
lip  to  lip  around  the  wagon  cordon;  and  a  hundred 
eyes  were  fastened  eagerly  upon  the  spot  where  now 
this  leader  squatted  beside  a  fire,  as  guest  and  coun 
sellor  of  Captain  Blunt. 

The  others  in  the  party  (which  numbered  about 
forty)  had  unsaddled  like  lightning,  had  turned  their 
horses  out,  under  a  guard,  and  starting  fires  or  gnaw 
ing  strips  of  jerked  meat  were  making  their  own  camp 


CHRISTOPHER   CARSON 


KIT  CARSON  TO  THE  RESCUE 

near  at  hand.  Darkly  tanned,  long-haired,  broad- 
shouldered  men  were  they,  the  majority  heavily 
bearded.  They  moved  lithely  in  moccasins,  their  buck 
skin  suits  were  patched  and  stained,  they  scarcely 
stirred  without  rifle  in  hollow  of  arm,  their  belts  bore 
pistol  or  pair  of  pistols,  and  knife;  their  talk  was  a 
curious  jargon,  but  very  expressive,  and  they  them 
selves  were  exceedingly  business-like. 

But  the  wonderful  Kit  Carson,  famous  hunter  and 
Indian  fighter — was  that  really  he?  Of  course,  every 
body  on  the  Santa  Fe  Trail  knew  about  Kit  Carson, 
the  free-trapper  and  captain  of  trappers,  who  as  merely 
a  boy  had  made  such  a  name  for  himself  in  the  moun 
tains  and  who  recently  had  come  out  of  them,  to  live 
at  Fernandez  de  Taos  and  to  supply  meat  for  Bent's 
Fort,  north.  Ere  leaving  the  Missouri  frontier  little 
Oliver  had  heard  of  Kit  Carson  as  though  he  were  ten 
feet  tall  and  four  feet  wide,  and  bore  a  pine-tree  for  a 
club;  but  now  little  Oliver  beheld  an  ordinary-looking 
person,  not  much  taller  than  himself  and  not  nearly 
so  tall  as  many  of  the  other  trappers ;  with  wiry  body, 
bandy  legs,  flat  features,  and  a  voice  so  ridiculously 
low  that  his  present  conversation  with  Captain  Blunt 
did  not  carry  beyond  the  camp-fire  light. 

Murmured  comment  by  teamsters,  here  and  there 
among  the  wagons,  showed  to  Oliver  that  he  was  not 
alone  in  his  disappointment. 

"That's  Kit  Carson,  is  it?" 

"  That  leetle  feller,  with  the  captain  yon  ?  " 

23 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  Wall,  naow,  I  thought  Kit  Carson  war  some 
punkins ! " 

"  A  big  Injun's  liable  to  pick  him  right  up!  " 

"Whar's  his  whiskers?" 

But  Dan  Matthews,  Captain  Blunt's  first  lieutenant, 
came  hurrying,  from  point  to  point  in  the  circle. 

"  Turn  out  your  critters,  men ;  and  you  guards 
post  yourselves  as  before.  Lively.  There's  likely  no 
danger  to-night,  Carson  says;  but  keep  your  eyes  and 
ears  open,  jest  the  same." 

"  Is  that  thar  reely  Kit  Carson — that  leetle  chap?  " 
queried  Teamster  Henry,  as  the  camp  bustled  to  re 
sume  its  routine. 

"  Yes." 

Henry  grunted. 

"  Wall,  he's  the  smallest  pea  for  the  amount  of  pod 
ever  I  see!" 

"  Don't  you  be  fooled,  Henry,"  retorted  Lieuten 
ant  Matthews.  "  You  wait  a  bit,  and  if  you  don't  find 
that  he's  got  the  biggest  do  for  the  size  of  his  tell 
that  ever  you  ran  across,  I'll  eat  my  hat." 

"That's  right,"  affirmed  "Dutch"  Jake,  over 
hearing.  "  Brag's  a  good  dog  but  he  won't  fight ;  an' 
you  mustn't  jedge  a  race-hoss  by  the  color  of  his  hide. 
You're  seeing  one  Kit  Carson,  a  gentle-speaking, 
mild-appearing,  sort  o'  nincompoop  who  you  might 
think  didn't  know  beans.  But  there's  another  Kit 
Carson,  half  hoss  an'  half  alligator,  as  they  say  on  the 
Mississippi,  or  half  grizzly  b'ar  an'  half  charging  elk, 


KIT  CARSON  TO  THE  RESCUE 

as  I  say;  an'  I  reckon  you'll  see  him,  too,  'fore  we're 
through  Injun  country." 

These  words  of  "  Dutch  "  Jake  impressed  Oliver 
deeply,  for  Jake  spoke  as  if  he  knew.  At  any  rate, 
'twas  pleasant  to  have  the  reinforcements:  to  watch 
their  easy  figures,  to  hear  their  voices,  to  stroll  through 
their  camp  and  catch  their  conversation,  to  note  their 
fringed,  beaded  clothing,  their  worn  weapons,  and 
their  wildly  shaggy  faces ;  and  to  feel  their  presence,  so 
handy,  when  in  the  darkness  the  fires  died  and  both 
camps  went  to  sleep. 

All  the  next  day  the  march  proceeded,  southward 
from  the  Arkansas,  amidst  sand  hills  and  sparse  vege 
tation.  The  trappers  from  Taos  rode  in  a  line  along 
either  side  of  the  train,  with  scouts  ahead  and  out 
upon  the  flanks.  The  men  of  the  train  laughed  and 
talked,  bantering  back  and  forth.  And  behind,  in  the 
reek  of  the  procession,  boy  Oliver,  ragged  and  upon  his 
old  mule,  driving  the  cavvy,  strained  eye  and  ear  to 
keep  tab  upon  what  was  being  done  and  said.  At  the 
noon  camp  he  had  opportunity  to  scan,  close  by  day 
light,  Kit  Carson  again. 

Kit  Carson  proved  to  have  a  square  face,  rugged 
and  weather-beaten,  with  sandy  moustache,  and 
framed  in  long  brown  hair  combed  smoothly  down  be 
hind  the  ears.  His  cheek-bones  were  high,  somewhat 
Indian-like,  his  forehead  was  high  and  full,  his  mouth 
straight  and  his  chin  firm.  His  most  remarkable 
feature  was  his  eyes — wide  apart,  level-set,  and  of  an 

25 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

intense  steely  gray  that  fairly  bored  a  hole  where  they 
looked.  His  movements  were  quick  and  sure;  and 
how  he  stuck  to  a  horse ! 

Oliver  the  more  believed  that  "  Dutch  "  Jake  and 
Lieutenant  Matthews  both  knew  better  than  Henry 
and  the  other  grumblers.  Something  about  Kit 
Carson  said  so. 

Despite  the  rough  joking,  the  march  was  an  earnest 
one.  No  straggling  was  permitted,  to  shoot  antelope 
or  elk.  Yet  the  day  was  not  uneventful,  for  once 
a  great  brown-bearded  man — his  beard  reaching 
almost  to  his  belt — who  was  Solomon  Silver,  a  Car 
son  man,  dropping  back,  rode  beside  the  cavvy  until, 
having  good-naturedly  eyed  Oliver,  he  joined  him,  to 
query,  perhaps  as  a  joke : 

"  Wall,  boy;  what'd  ye  reckon  to  do  if  the  Injuns 
come  down  sudden  ?  " 

"  I'd  fight  'em/'  said  Oliver,  bravely.  "'Here's  my 
pistol.  See?" 

"  Haw !  Haw !  "  boomed  Sol  Silver  the  trapper, 
in  a  rousing  laugh ;  and  behind  his  beard  he  chuckled. 
"  That's  right,  boy.  Let's  see  that  shooting-iron  o' 
yorn,"  and  he  laid  it  in  the  palm  of  his  scarred  hand. 
"  No  use  o'  Kit  an'  us  a-riding  the  trail,  when  this  air 
riding  it  too.  I'll  tell  him.  'Spec'  if  you  shoot  an 
Injun  with  this,  son,  an'  he  gets  to  find  out,  he'd  be 
powerful  mad  at  ye!  But  thar,  boy;  do  yore  best. 
Hyar's  'nother  kind  o'  pistol.  Ever  see  one  ?  "  And 
he  pulled  it  from  his  buffalo-hide  belt. 

26 


KIT  CARSON  TO  THE  RESCUE 

"  No,"  confessed  Oliver. 

It  was  an  odd-looking  pistol,  with  long  barrel  and 
a  round  bulge  between  barrel  and  stock. 

"  That  air  a  pistol  to  shoot  six  times  without  re 
loading,"  declared  Sol.  "  It  has  one  barrel  an'  six 
chambers,  in  this  cylinder ;  the  barrel  stays  put,  but  the 
cylinder  turns  'round,  with  a  fresh  load  ready,  when 
ever  trigger  air  pulled.  Wagh !  It  air  made  by  a  man 
named  Colt,  in  the  States ;  it  air  called  Colt,  but  it  air 
a  full-size  hoss." 

"  Have  you  all  got  them?  "  asked  Oliver. 

"  All  we  Carson  men  have  'em,  an'  percussion-cap 
rifles,  to  boot.  When  Kit  Carson  goes  into  a  fight,  he 
goes  in  to  win,  an'  the  best  weapons  air  none  too  good 
for  his  men.  We  air  Carson  men."  Sol  proclaimed 
this  with  a  certain  degree  of  pride. 

"Will  the  Kiowas  attack  us,  sure?"  invited 
Oliver. 

"  'Bout  to-morrow,  Kit  thinks.  When  they  do, 
you  give  us  fellows  a  chance  'fore  you  open  up  with 
yore  battery  an'  take  all  the  scalps." 

But  Oliver  suspected  that  Sol  was  joking  again. 
Still,  he  liked  this  jovial,  burly  Sol  Silver,  and  hoped 
that  he  would  tell  Kit  Carson. 

Nothing  especial  happened  this  night  in  camp,  save 
that  Captain  Blunt  and  lieutenants  passed  about,  exam 
ining  all  the  guns  and  asking  if  powder-horns  were 
full.  But  at  the  breaking  of  camp,  in  the  dawn,  when 
the  wagons  were  forming  to  pull  out  in  the  double- 

27 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

column,  something  very  especial  happened.  Behold, 
into  every  wagon  climbed  a  trapper  or  two,  and  stowed 
themselves  saf efy  away  amidst  the  goods  under  the  pro 
tective  canvas  hood*!  Just  a  corner  of  the  canvas 

v,a-    j<:r  Jv;><-:  Uf  ^  ft*  Mdbt*v  M  U   for  a:r 

How  througbcmt  the  caravan  eddied  a  gale  of  jeer 
and  derision  and  protest 

"  This  » the  war  they  tide  the  trail  with  us,  is  it ! " 

"  These  ain't  mountain-men;  they're  gophers! " 

"Have  we  got  to  had  'em  an'  fight  for  'em, 
both?" 

Even  Kit  Carson  had  disappeared,  for  cover.  But 
no  response  was  made  by  die  toppers;  Captain  Blunt 
and  his  awistants  hade  the  teamsters  "  Ketch  up! " 
and  straighten  oat,  for  the  march;  and  two  by  two  on 
rotted  die  wagons,  the  teamsters  angry,  die  trappers 
comfortably  inside,  and  the  trappers'  horses  tethered 
to  the  end-gates. 

The  action  on  the  part  of  the  trappers  seemed  as 
strange  to  boy  Oliver  as  it  did  to  the  teamsters,  Was 
that  how  Kit  Carson  men  battled— fry  hiding  behind 
other  men,  and  by  crawling  tinder  cover  and  making 
die  people  dsey  were  pretending  to  defend  tight  oat- 
side?  Humph!  Maybe  this  wasn't  Kit  Carson,  after 
all. 

The  nand-hi  Jit  were  increasing  in  number  and  ex 
tent;  duity  and  dry  was  die  way  but  nobody  could 
drink,  for  it  was  against  orders  to  drink  out  of  die 
casks,  or  to  fitt  canteens  except  once  a  day,  The  "dry 


KIT  CARSON  TO  THE  RESCUE 

march  "  of  over  titty  miles  was  beginning:,  and  some 
times  water  gave  out  before  it  was  traversed.  So 
e\  CM  \  drop  must  l>e  cherished. 

\\  ith  the  lu>i  Min  about  t\\o  hours  hijjh  the  caravan 

xx  a. s  entering  upon  a  loni;,  rather  nano\\  s\\ale  leading 
het  \\een  rounded  xuul-i  ul^c>  whereon  onh  cactus  and 
a  fexx  >praxxl\  xxeedv  :••.  e\\  i/aptam  CUnni  ami  sev 
eral  other  riders  \\ere  \\\  .uKance;  iMit  upon  the  right 
(lank,  am!  M»me\\hat  \\\  adxauce  i\>tle  l.ieuten.vnt  Dan 
Matthews  anil  IVNO  men.  aiul  siimlarlx  u|v>n  the  left 
tlank  i\ule  anothc.  n-tnun  Heutenant  They 

climbed  hill  alter  hill,  ami  lul^o  alter  riil^e,  and  s\ir- 
\c\cvl  closelx  the  conntrv  A-  ..  -...  ^uavd,  brinni! 
e\  en  I  Muer.  lode  a  Mjiiad  o[  hall  a  iK«.  en  traders  a.nd 
l"rre-lance>.  rinis  the-  caraxan  \\.is  appaienth  \\c-ll 

provided  IMtiml  >nrpri>c    „  \  .»!entl\   tlu    .\ 

Jhoui^ht  ti>  be  nc-ar  at  haml%  th< 
i  Mixer  a  nu»re  Ci>mliM"table  trehni; 

If  the  tiam  mn>t  takf  i'an  of  itself,  With  those 
tiapper>  craxenly  put  tin?.:  greater  store  i^n  the\i  oxx  \\ 
hulcs  than  i>n  the  purpose  ior  which  they  hail  pretended 
t»»  ji«»ii.  [hen  I  he  niou-  j>uv.iutions  (he  hv'Iiei. 


II 

UNDER  THE  WAGON 


•How  quietly  wound  the  train,  between  the  low 
dun  hills !  No  lashes  cracked,  no  voices  shouted,  mule, 
ox  and  horse  steadily  plodded,  and  the  only  sounds 
were  the  subdued  words  of  the  teamsters  encouraging 
their  animals,  and  the  creaking  of  the  dry  wagon- 
frames.  But  hark !  Right  in  the  midst  of  this  brood 
ing  atmosphere  drifted  down  from  the  hills  upon  the 
right  a  rifle-report;  and  when  Oliver  caught  sight  of 
the  place,  here  came,  full  tilt,  from  flankers'  duty,  Dan 
and  his  comrades ;  behind  them  the  smoke  of  the  report 
was  still  wafting. 

"Injuns!"  This  was  the  alarm.  Instantly  the 
caravan  was  again  in  a  frenzy  of  commotion.  Team 
sters  curled  their  lashes  and  sent  their  mules  into  a 
lope,  their  oxen  into  a  lumbering  trot;  loud  rose  a 
medley  of  exclamations,  orders,  rumbling  of  wheels. 
From  behind  little  Oliver,  who,  his  heart  in  his  mouth, 
was  shouting  at  his  lazy  cavvy,  urging  them  forward 
(Oh,  such  a  long  way  must  he  go !),  rode  for  him  the 
rear-guard. 

"  Quick !  Roust  these  critters !  "  they  bade,  one  to 
another,  and  helped  him.  The  cavvy  was  forced  into 
a  trot. 

so 


UNDER  THE  WAGON 

From  right  and  left  and  before,  the  flankers  and 
van-guard  were  hustling  in,  bending  low  and  lashing 
their  horses.  Now  another  report  of  rifle  drifted  in; 
another,  and  another!  Barely  pausing  in  their  mad 
flight,  Dan  and  his  two  comrades  were  turning  in  sad 
dle  and  aiming  to  their  rear;  jets  of  white  smoke  sped 
from  the  muzzles  of  their  guns,  as  one  after  another 
they  fired.  For  there  were  the  Indians — issuing  from 
the  crest  of  the  sand-ridge,  as  if  springing  out  of  holes, 
and  pouring  over,  down  the  slope,  trying  to  catch  Dan 
and  the  other  men.  They  must  be  Indians,  because 
they  flourished  lances,  and  because  they  were  naked, 
with  feathers  streaming  in  the  breeze. 

But  they  couldn't  overtake  Dan  and  his  men. 

Now  from  the  opposite  slope  echoed  more  shots. 
Indians  here  also!  See  them  come,  after  that  squad 
of  scouts!  Why  didn't  the  trappers  get  out  from  the 
wagons,  and  help?  Why  didn't  the  cavvy  travel 
faster?  What  a  lot  of  Indians!  And  would  the 
wagons  be  parked,  in  time,  and  would  there  be  a  hole 
left  for  the  cavvy?  Supposing  there  wasn't,  and  he, 
Oliver,  must  stay  outside! 

"  Roust  those  critters !  Roust  those  critters !  " 
urged  the  men  with  Oliver,  as  in  the  dust  and  the 
hubbub  and  the  excitement  they  all  shrieked  together. 

Almost  crying,  in  his  earnestness,  little  Oliver  did 
his  best. 

As  fast  as  they  arrived  at  trot  and  gallop  the 
wagons  swung  to  right  and  to  left,  tongues  inside, 

31 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

front  wheels  locked  with  hind  wheels  of  the  previously 
arrived,  the  teams  were  unhitched,  the  teamsters  knelt 
to  thrust  their  yagers  between  the  spokes  and  aim. 
Smaller  and  smaller  grew  the  opening,  as  the  oval 
closed — but  amidst  yell  and  murk,  in  through  the 
opening  galloped  at  last  the  cavvy,  and  like  the  rest 
little  Oliver,  breathless,  gasping,  found  himself 
"  forted." 

None  too  soon  was  it !  Down  streamed,  on  either 
flank,  the  foe — a  hideously  screaming,  whooping, 
feathered,  painted  foe:  riding,  many  of  them  bridleless, 
most  of  them  garmentless,  brandishing  tufted  lance 
and  strung  bow,  with  here  and  there  a  gun,  face  and 
body  daubed  lavishly  with  red  and  yellow. 

"  Kiowas !  "  ran  through  the  wagon- fort  the  mut 
tered  exclamation.  And 

"  Get  out  o'  there,  you  trappers !  You  Kit  Carson 
men !  "  rose  the  angry  cry.  "  Get  out  o'  yore  holes 
an'  show  what  you  can  do !  " 

But  from  within  the  wagons  answered  never  a 
sound  nor  a  stir. 

However,  'twas  no  time  nor  place,  now,  to  berate 
the  dastard  mountain-men,  so  false  to  their  reputation. 
The  teamsters  were  green;  the  wagon-fort  had  been 
poorly  formed,  in  the  haste;  the  location  was  bad, 
for  defense ;  and  darting  from  wagon  to  wagon,  along 
the  circle,  Captain  Blunt  and  other  leaders  besought 
the  defenders  to  keep  cool  and  hold  their  fire. 

The  painted  Kiowas  on-rushed  as  if  they  were  to 


UNDER  THE  WAGON 

ride  right  over  the  wagons !  "  Bang !  "  spoke  the 
yager  of  a  teamster.  And  "Bang!  Bang!  Bang! 
Bang !  Bangity-bang ! "  bellowed  the  smooth-bores  as 
his  excited  mates  pulled  triggers.  In  vain  Captain 
Blunt  and  his  aides  ran,  ordered,  implored,  threatened. 
The  Kiowas  were  two  hundred  yards  away;  too  far 
for  a  clumsy  yager — but  at  the  volley  every  one  fell 
from  his  horse.  Were  they  all  killed?  Were  they? 
Hurrah,  thought  little  Oliver.  No — a  fellow  in  bright 
yellow  leggins  was  left !  But  at  the  "  pop !  "  of  little 
Oliver's  pistol  he,  also,  fell  over!  Then 

No !  More  were  left,  on  this  side;  and  on  the  other 
side!  See?  Even  the  yellow-leggins  had  come  to  life. 
Saddle-pad  after  saddle-pad  miraculously  grew  a 
figure,  and  on  dashed  the  Kiowas  again,  as  many  as 
ever,  with  joyous  yelps  charging  empty  guns.  That 
was  what  they  had  hoped  for — empty  guns. 

Realizing,  the  panicky  teamsters  fumbled  and  made 
mistakes,  as  rattling  their  pieces  among  the  wagon- 
spokes  they  would  pour  powder,  ram  ball,  prime  pan, 
cock,  aim,  fire.  Disdaining  to  hang  now  by  thong- 
loops  upon  the  opposite  side  of  their  horses,  with  bows 
drawn,  lances  poised,  and  a  gun  or  two  speaking,  the 
wild  redmen  of  the  sand-hills  bore  headlong  for  the 
weakly  answering  caravan. 

So  swiftly  they  neared!  Ere  half  the  yagers  had 
been  reloaded  they  were  within  fifty  yards.  Could 
anything  stop  them?  With  thud  upon  thud  their 
arrows  pelted  in  and  through.  Their  paint  patterns 

3  33 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

were  plain,  their  faces  glared,  their  guttural  exclama 
tions  could  be  heard — and  boy  Oliver,  with  one  last 
frantic  glance  about,  dived  under  a  low-hung  wagon. 

Even  as  he  did  so,  he  heard  a  new  sound.  It  was 
not  "  Bang !  "  and  "  Bang !  "  It  was  "  Spat !  "  "  Spat ! 
Spat!"  and  "Whing!"  The  wagon  over  him 
swayed,  a  fresh  fume  of  powder-smoke  floated  to  his 
nostrils.  The  trappers!  He  had  forgotten  the  trap 
pers  !  They  had  fired,  at  last,  from  beneath  the  wagon- 
covers — but  they  were  too  late. 

It  seemed  to  little  Oliver  that  he  waited  a  long 
time  for  the  charge.  He  still  heard  the  whoops  and 
grunts  of  the  Kiowas,  right  at  hand — they  were  com 
ing,  coming,  coming!  They  would  scalp  the  whole 
caravan,  and  steal  all  the  cavvy !  And  while  he  waited, 
clutching  his  pistol,  another  sound  arose.  Inside  the 
wagon-fort  was  a  new  commotion — a  c/amor  of  voices, 
a  shuffling  of  hasty  feet,  a  rattle  of  stirrup  and  a  thud 
of  many  hoofs ! 

Had  the  Kiowas  broken  through?  They  must! 
The  wagon  over  him  swayed  again,  something  struck 
it,  almost  shoved  it  to  one  side;  he  peered,  craning 
his  neck  to  see  into  the  dust — and  a  set  of  hoofs  passed 
right  over  his  head.  He  glimpsed  a  buckskin  rider, 
on  the  outside;  a  trapper  had  forced  his  horse  between 
the  loosely  locked  wheels  of  the  two  wagons,  and  was 
on  the  outside! 

The  Kiowas  were  here,  too.  Many  were  upon  the 
ground,  and  the  red  which  stained  them  was  redder 

34 


UNDER  THE  WAGON 

than  the  red  of  vermilion  paint.  Yes,  many  and 
many  were  upon  the  ground.  But  the  others  were 
charging  about ;  little  Oliver  had  not  been  waiting  long, 
after  all.  He  knelt,  trembling  in  his  eagerness.  There 
were  still  a  host  of  Kiowas,  and  they  were  very  angry. 
The  wagon-fort  must  be  fairly  oozing  trappers, 
mounted;  for  from  either  direction  they  were  gallop 
ing  into  the  field,  their  lines  loose,  their  buckskin-clad, 
fringed  bodies  leaning  forward,  pistol  in  hand. 

Across  the  little  space,  to  the  line  of  prone  and 
doubled  figures  they  raced.  "Bang!  Bang!"  jetted 
their  pistols.  The  live  Kiowas,  dodging  and  hanging 
to  the  necks  of  their  ponies,  parted  before  the  counter 
charge,  swerved  at  the  volley,  let  the  trappers  into  their 
midst — and  with  a  great  savage  yell  of  vengeance 
turned,  to  close.  For  the  trappers'  pistols  were  empty, 
as  the  teamsters'  yagers  had  been!  Now  long  scores 
would  be  settled ;  a  trapper's  scalp  was  worthy  many  a 
dance. 

But  what  a  surprise!  With  "Bang!  Bang!"  the 
pistols  spoke  again  and  yet  again  and  again,  and  needed 
no  reloading !  Down  from  their  ponies  plunged  stricken 
Kiowas,  fierce  career  ended;  around  wheeled  the  un- 
stricken,  lying  low  upon  pony  backs,  hammering  pony 
sides  with  desperate  heels,  fleeing  the  wondrous  medi 
cine  of  the  whites.  And  through  the  lodges  of  plains 
and  desert  spread  the  wail :  "  White  man  shoot  one 
time  with  rifle  and  six  time  with  butcher-knife!  "  Thus 
before  the  eyes  of  boy  Oliver,  under  the  wagon,  was 

35 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

broken  by  Kit  Carson  and  his  men  the  power  of  the 
caravan  pirates. 

Cheering  and  lashing,  the  trappers  made  pursuit 
clear  out  of  sight.  All  around  the  wagon-fort  the 
battle  had  resulted  the  same.  With  that  result  the 
teamsters  really  had  little  to  do,  after  their  first  ineffec 
tive  volley;  and  they  could  only  stare,  open-mouthed, 
when  so  unexpectedly  the  trapper  rifles  emptied  the 
saddle-pads  in  earnest,  and  without  hesitation  out  the 
trappers  charged.  They  still  were  staring,  scarcely 
crediting,  when  back  the  trappers  rode,  in  little  squads, 
grim  and  weary,  but  not  without  their  banter.  Slipped 
under  the  belts  they  brought  scalps.  Oliver  saw  Sol 
Silver,  and  he  recognized  others — and  he  found  Kit 
Carson. 

Kit  Carson  chanced  to  ride  close  in,  past  Oliver's 
wagon,  and  paused  here  to  shake  hands  with  Captain 
Blunt.  His  face  was  flushed  and  his  lips  tight  to 
gether;  and  his  eyes!  They  were  terrible  eyes,  not 
now  steel-gray  but  a  vivid  blue,  flaming  like  living 
amethysts  or  like  blue  stars. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  he  said,  in  reply  to  Captain  Blunt's 
congratulations.  "  We  taught  those  thar  red  demons 
a  lesson  they'll  not  forget.  It's  all  over.  Go  ahead 
with  yore  caravan." 

Hearing,  Oliver  shame- facedly  crawled  out  from 
beneath  the  wagon;  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  Kit 
Carson  the  Great  saw  him,  and  smiled  friendly  at  him. 

Some  of  the  teamsters  would  have  liked  to  mingle 

36 


UNDER  THE  WAGON 

with  the  trappers  and  to  rehearse  what  had  been  done, 
and  what  had  not  been  done,  and  what  might  have 
been  done,  in  the  short  fight ;  but  "  Catch  up !  Ketch 
up !  "  and  "  Fall  in,  men !  "  rang  the  sharp  orders  of 
the  caravan  officers.  Time  had  been  lost,  water  was 
dwindling,  every  moment  was  precious;  the  march 
must  proceed  at  once. 

So  team  after  team  settled  to  collar  and  yoke, 
wagon  after  wagon  lurched  forward;  and  presently 
little  Oliver  was  once  more  in  the  rear  of  all,  driving 
his  cavvy  through  the  drifting  dust.  Strangely 
enough,  not  a  man  of  caravan  or  trappers  had  been 
wounded,  and  only  one  mule  had  received  an  arrow, 
in  the  hip. 

"  Wall,  boy,  how'd  you  like  the  Kiowas?  "  It  was 
Sol  Silver,  again,  back  beside  Oliver.  Brown-bearded 
and  burly,  he  looked  the  same  as  ever  and  as  if  he  had 
not  been  in  any  fight.  But  tucked  in  his  belt  were  two 
scalps.  "  Whar's  yore  pelts  for  trophies  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  any.  I  wasn't  close  enough,"  an 
swered  Oliver,  truthfully. 

"  Didn't  I  see  you  chasing  the  chief  on  yore  mule?  " 
invited  Sol.  "  Kit  took  one  chief  an'  you  took  t'other." 

Oliver  flushed,  and  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  I  didn't.    I  didn't  try." 

"Wharwarye,  then?" 

Oliver  flushed  more  and  hung  his  head. 

"  Under  a  wagon." 

37 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  Haw !  Haw !  "  roared  Sol,  and  chuckled  through 
his  beard.  "  What  war  the  matter?  " 

Oliver  wanted  to  cry. 

"  I  guess  I  was  afraid." 

"  Haw !  Haw !  "  roared  Sol.  "  Guess  mebbe  you 
war."  Then  he  sobered.  "  You  fetched  yore  cavvy 
in,  though,  I  hear  tell." 

"  Men  helped  me." 

"  But  you  come  in  behind  an'  not  ahead,  jest  the 
same,"  asserted  Sol.  "  That  war  right.  Warn't  ye 
afraid  the  Injuns'd  get  ye,  'fore  you  war  forted?" 

Oliver  nodded. 

"  That's  right,  that's  right,"  said  Sol.  "  You  cor 
ralled  yore  cavvy  fust,  an'  then  you  crawled  under 
the  wagon.  Don't  blame  ye  for  being  afraid.  Only 
a  fool's  never  afraid.  Being  afraid  doesn't  make  any 
body  a  coward.  I  'spec'  you  thought  us  trappers  war 
afraid,  too,  when  we  crawled  into  the  wagons,  'fore 
you  crawled  under  one." 

Oliver  must  nod  again. 

"  We  warn't ;  not  this  time.  But  I  reckon  we've 
all  been  afraid,  many  another  time.  This  time  we 
crawled  into  the  wagons  so  the  Injuns  wouldn't  see 
us.  If  the  Injuns  spied  Kit  Carson  men  riding  with  a 
wagon-train  they'd  never  attack,  you  bet.  These 
Southwest  Injuns  know  us  Kit  Carson  men  by  sight, 
now.  An'  you  jest  say  '  Kit  Carson  '  to  'em,  an'  out 
comes  the  peace-pipe  mighty  quick.  They  can  depend 
on  Kit  to  fight  'em  if  they're  bound  to  fight,  or  to  talk 

38 


UNDER  THE  WAGON 

straight  with  'em  if  they  want  to  talk  straight.  He 
air  a  bad  enemy,  an'  he  air  a  best  friend.  He  shoots 
plumb  centre,  with  both  tongue  an'  rifle." 

The  noon  camp  was  very  brief;  long  enough  only 
for  the  animals  to  breathe,  and  for  the  men  to  munch 
a  strip  each  of  dried  meat,  while  coffee  boiled.  But  it 
was  long  enough  for  Oliver  to  sidle  near  where  Kit 
Carson  appeared  to  be  telling  stories  to  a  group  of 
caravan  men.  Anybody  should  know  that  Kit  Carson 
must  have  marvellous  stories  to  tell. 

"  But  what  about  that  time  you  sneaked  on  hands 
an'  knees,  through  the  snow,  close  to  the  Injun  fort, 
near  head  o'  the  Arkansas,  an'  cut  the  hosses  loose  an' 
drove  'em  off  with  snow-balls  ? "  asked  Teamster 
Henry. 

"When  war  that?"  inquired  Kit  Carson,  as  if 
mildly  surprised. 

"  Some  years  back.  When  you  fust  went  into  the 
mountains." 

"  Oh,"  said  Kit  Carson,  slowly  rubbing  his  chin. 
"  That  war  some  o'  Captain  Gant's  men.  Captain 
Gant  had  lost  some  hosses,  by  these  Crows,  an'  his 
men  went  an'  got  'em.  Can't  do  without  hosses,  in  the 
mountains." 

"  But  weren't  you  along?  " 

"  Wall,  I  might  have  followed,"  drawled  Carson, 
uneasily.  "  I  don't  exactly  remember  'bout  that.  They 
war  brave  fellows,  though.  They " 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  Reckon  you've  made  a  heap  o'  Injuns  run,  all 
the  same,"  interrupted  an  admiring  caravaner. 

"  Sartinly,  sartinly,"  agreed  Kit  Carson.  "  Part 
the  time  I've  been  running  after  them,  an'  most  the 
time  they've  been  running  after  me/' 

"  You  gave  'em  a  good  dose  this  time,  though." 

"  Wall,  we  had  to;  we  had  to.  My  men  had  to," 
declared  Kit  Carson,  and  he  brought  down  his  clenched 
hand.  "  But  we  didn't  like  to ;  that  is,  we  oughtn't 
to  like  to.  Nobody  likes  to  kill  human  beings;  an' 
these  Injuns,  pore  critters,  ain't  been  raised  to  know 
any  better'n  to  rob  an'  murder.  They  think  this  hyar's 
their  country,  an'  we  whites  air  using  up  the  game  they 
depend  on.  But  o'  course,  these  Kiowas  come  down 
'specting  to  wipe  out  a  defenceless  train  that  warn't 
doing  'em  any  harm,  an'  we  simply  had  to  shoot  into 
'em.  If  this  caravan  didn't  lick  'em,  proper,  some 
other  caravan  must.  Now  the  job's  over." 

"  How  many  did  you  kill,  of  'em?  You  got  the 
chief,  didn't  you?" 

"  Me  ? "  queried  Kit  Carson,  again  mildly  sur 
prised.  "  Oh,  thar  war  jest  a  lot  o'  shooting  an'  riding 
around,  an'  we  did  the  best  we  could.  We  war  lucky 
to  have  these  six-shooter  pistols — revolvers,  they  call 
'em.  Ever  see  'em  before  ?  " 

"You'll  never  get  him  to  talk  about  himself," 
warned  a  trapper  to  a  listener  near  Oliver.  "  Some 
times  he  will,  with  Injuns,  'cause  they  understand 
boasting,  an'  they  all  know  Kit  Carson.  But  'tain't 

40 


UNDER  THE  WAGON 

white  man  way  with  him.  So  you  might  as  well  quit. 
He  hates  the  leetle  letter  '  I.'  " 

"  That's  heap  weepon,  shorely,"  commented  a  team 
ster,  examining.  "  Beats  the  big  gun  of  that  boy, 
yonder." 

Now,  this  caused  everybody  to  look  at  Oliver, 
which  was  most  embarrassing.  He  was  well  aware 
that  his  little  pistol  was  not  so  grand  as  these  new- 
style  revolvers;  and  he  did  not  like  to  be  laughed  at. 
But  Kit  Carson,  as  if  glad  to  change  the  subject  from 
himself,  smiled  and  said  quickly : 

"  Hello,  boy.  You're  safe,  they  say,  an'  so's  yore 
cavvy.  You'll  make  a  warrior  yet." 

Oliver  must  hang  his  head  and  turn  and  twist. 
He  didn't  deserve  such  praise. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  I  crawled  under  a  wagon,"  he 
blurted.  "  I  didn't  fight  any." 

"  Haw !  Haw !  "  rose  the  laughter. 

"  Wall,"  remarked  Kit  Carson,  quietly,  but  clearly, 
"  I've  seen  many  a  time  when  I  wished  I  war  under  a 
wagon,  myself." 

At  this  moment  "  Catch  up !  Ketch  up !  "  sounded 
the  calls,  and  the  talk  must  end,  while  the  caravan 
resumed  the  trail. 

Not  another  Indian  came  into  sight,  as  the  train 
plodded  on,  with  the  Kit  Carson  men  still  acting  as 
escort.  At  sunset  camp  was  made  for  the  night,  be 
side  a  dried  water-course  where  grew  a  few  hardy 
cottonwoods.  Sitting  wearily  his  old  mule,  watching 

41 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

his  cavvy  until  the  night  guard  should  relieve  him, 
little  Oliver  wished  that  he  was  by  one  of  the  trappers' 
mess-fires  instead,  where  Kit  Carson  might  smile  upon 
him,  again.  However,  while  he  sat  upon  the  mule, 
a  figure  rode  to  him,  through  the  dusk.  It  was  the 
booming  Sol  Silver,  once  more.  Sol  spoke  direct. 

"  Boy,  Kit  sent  me  to  ask  how'd  you  like  to  go  on 
to  Touse  with  us,  'stead  o'  to  Santy  Fee  with  the 
caravan  ?  " 

Oliver  gasped. 

"Can  I?    With  you!" 

"If  you  want  to,  an'  if  Kit  decides  so.  We  take 
the  Touse  trail  in  the  morning.  Now,  if  you're  to 
come,  thar'll  be  a  fire  made  at  the  foot  o'  that  thar  cot- 
tonwood,  standing  out  alone.  See  it?  Wall,  if  you 
see  the  flare,  pretty  soon,  you'll  know.  But  you'll  lose 
yore  wages  from  the  caravan.  They'll  not  pay  ye 
less  you  go  through  to  Santy  Fee  with  'em." 

"  I  don't  care,"  stammered  Oliver.  "  I'd  rather  go 
to  Touse,  with  you.  Can  I  be  a  Kit  Carson  man  ?  " 

"  Reckon  you  can,  some  time,  if  you  got  it  in  you; 
an'  if  Kit  thinks  you  have,  you  have.  All  right;  don't 
say  anything,  an'  watch  for  the  fire." 

Sol  rode  back  to  his  mates.  Oliver  watched 
anxiously.  Hurrah,  the  fire  flared,  just  as  he  was 
trudging  to  supper.  And  when,  in  the  morning,  cara 
van  and  trappers  parted  company,  into  the  west  on  the 
Taos  trail  rode  with  the  Kit  Carson  men  little  Oliver 
Wiggins. 

42 


Ill 

OLIVER  WINS  HIS  SPURS 


THAT  evening,  with  clatter  of  hoof  and  volley  of 
victorious  whoops  and  rifle-shots,  amidst  the  sunset 
they  galloped  into  the  New  Mexican  village  of  Don 
Fernandez  de  Taos,  sixty  miles  west  from  where  they 
had  parted  with  the  Santa  Fe  bound  caravan. 

Taos,  or  "  old  Touse,"  as  it  was  affectionately 
styled,  lies  in  a  mountain  valley  eighty  miles  north  of 
Santa  Fe.  Here  had  his  home  and  headquarters  Kit 
Carson,  captain  over  his  company  of  forty-five  trap^ 
pers.  He  lived  in  one  of  the  box-like  clay  houses,  with 
his  little  daughter  Adaline.  Adaline,  four  years  old, 
was  a  dark,  elfish  lass,  half  Indian;  for  her  mother,  Kit 
Carson's  wife,  had  been  an  Araphoe.  Kit  had  married 
this  Araphoe  in  the  mountains,  in  the  summer  of  1835, 
but  she  had  died  soon  after  the  birth  of  little  Adaline. 

"  Kit  thought  a  heap  o'  Alice,"  declared  Sol  Silver, 
to  Oliver.  "  Some  trappers  jest  take  a  squaw  as  cook 
an'  lodge  cleaner,  an'  all  that.  But  Kit  air  true  man. 
He  named  his  squaw  Alice,  an'  when  she  died  he  felt 
mighty  bad.  He's  got  that  gal  to  raise,  now." 

The  Kit  Carson  company  of  trappers  were  divided 
into  two  bands,  under  Lieutenant  Ike  Chamberlain  and 
Lieutenant  Sol  Silver.  They  took  turns  going  upon 

43 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

excursions  after  beaver — or  sometimes  they  all  were 
out  together. 

Besides  the  beaver-hunting,  there  was  the  buffalo- 
hunting  for  Bent's  Fort.  Northeast  of  Taos,  250 
and  more  miles,  upon  the  Arkansas  River  in  southern 
Colorado  of  to-day,  was  the  large  clay-built  trading- 
post  of  Bent's  Fort,  or  Fort  William,  its  hardy  garri 
son  trafficking  with  20,000  wild  Cheyennes,  Utes,  and 
Arapahoes. 

Kit  Carson  had  the  contract  for  supplying  the 
garrison  with  meat.  So  twice  a  year,  in  spring  and  in 
fall,  the  Carson  men  gathered  at  Bent's  Fort,  for  a 
great  buffalo-hunt.  Into  the  fort  were  brought  thou 
sands  of  pounds  of  buffalo-meat. 

The  great  Kit  Carson  did  not  seem  to  think  much 
of  Oliver,  after  landing  him  in  Taos.  He  gave  him 
a  place  to  sleep  and  a  place  at  table;  but  he  did  not 
send  him  out  to  trap  beaver,  or  hunt  buffalo,  or  rescue 
traders.  He  put  him  upon  the  shabby  mule,  and  set 
him  at  his  old  job  of  tending  a  horse-herd. 

"  It's  this  way,  boy,"  consoled  Sol  Silver,  when 
Oliver  would  complain.  "  You  do  well  what's  yores 
to  be  done,  an'  chance  at  more  will  come." 

The  extra  horses  and  mules  belonging  to  the  Kit 
Carson  company  were  pastured  in  the  open  on  the  out 
skirts  of  town.  Every  morning  they  must  be  driven 
out  to  graze,  and  every  evening  they  must  be  brought 
back  to  the  corral.  It  was  Oliver's  business  to  drive 
them  out  and  to  drive  them  back — which  he  did  with 

44 


OLIVER  WINS  HIS  SPURS 

many  shouts  and  much  rope-waving  and  gallant  racing 
by  his  ancient  mule.  Thus  for  a  year  he  was  the 
official  herder  for  the  Carson  company. 

The  Carson  men  came  and  went.  Oliver  heard 
their  stories,  of  stirring  deeds  by  themselves  or  by  Bill 
Williams,  Jim  Bridger,  Captain  Billy  Sublette,  and 
others;  and  by  Kit  Carson.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
never  heard  "Kit"  (as  his  friends  lovingly  called 
him)  make  much  mention  of  himself  in  any  advent 
ures;  somebody  else  always  was  the  hero. 

When  home  in  Taos  Kit  played  much  with  his 
swarthy  little  daughter,  Adaline.  Just  what  to  do 
with  her  appeared  to  bother  him.  Oliver  once  noted 
him  saying,  in  his  soft  voice,  with  broad  accent  of  the 
South  and  the  border  mingled: 

"  I  war  raised  without  schooling ;  then  I  ran  away 
an'  I  war  twelve  years  on  the  trail  an'  in  the  moun 
tains  'fore  I  came  out  to  Bent's  an'  to  Taos  again. 
Now  I'm  thirty-two,  an'  without  any  education  'cept 
trapper  education.  'Tisn't  human  for  a  man  not  to  be 
able  to  read  or  write ;  an'  what  I'm  to  do  with  my  leetle 
gal  I  don't  know.  But  I  want  her  to  have  education." 

This  seemed  to  Oliver  rather  a  queer  idea  from  the 
great  Kit  Carson,  who  could  shoot  and  ride  and  trail 
and  talk  Indian  talk  and  make  Indian  sign,  besides 
speaking  a  rude  Spanish  and  some  French.  Why 
should  such  a  man  care  to  read  and  write,  or  wish 
that  his  children  should  read  and  write?  But  Kit 
Carson  had  been  much  in  earnest,  nevertheless. 

45 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Now  was  it  the  late  fall  of  1841,  and  Oliver  still 
was  the  official  herder  for  the  Carson  company.  How 
ever,  he  had  grown  very  much  during  these  twelve 
months  in  the  fresh  air,  riding  and  tramping  and  doing 
man's  work.  Tough  of  muscle  and  sturdy  of  frame, 
he  was  becoming  full-chested  like  Kit  Carson  him 
self.  But  he  could  not  yet  be  called  a  trapper. 

The  men  were  kind  to  him;  he  liked  them;  he 
stood  their  joking  and  their  rough  ways,  and  tried  to 
do  what  they  told  him  was  best  to  do.  So  they  appar 
ently  liked  him,  in  turn,  and  would  teach  him  how  to 
shoot  quick  and  straight,  and  to  ride  easily  and  surely. 

On  this,  an  afternoon  in  the  last  week  of  Novem 
ber,  he  had  been  permitted  by  Lieutenant  Ike  Chamber 
lain  (a  stalwart  six-footer  was  Ike,  and  a  tremendous 
fighter,  they  all  said)  to  take  out  upon  herd  Ike's 
favorite  rifle — a  heavy  flint-lock,  made  by  the  cele 
brated  gun-smith  Hawkins,  of  St.  Louis.  It  was  taller 
than  Oliver,  and  the  long  barrel  was  so  heavy  that 
he  scarcely  could  hold  it  out;  so  when  he  shot  it  he 
rested  it  upon  brush,  or  crossed  sticks,  or  whatever 
else  was  handy.  But  the  bullet  sped  true  to  the  sight. 
"  Plumb  centre  "  shot  a  Hawkins  rifle. 

With  the  heavy  rifle  balanced  across  his  lap,  with 
buffalo-horn  powder-flask  and  beaded  hide  bullet-pouch 
slung  from  his  shoulders,  and  with  broad,  keen  skin- 
ning-knife  belted  by  hide  belt  at  his  right  thigh,  he 
was  prepared  to  shoot  rabbits.  Obeying  instructions 
of  Ike  and  Sol  and  the  other  men,  he  had  learned  to 

46 


OLIVER  WINS  HIS  SPURS 

hit  the  rabbits  only  in  the  head.  It  was  fairer  to  the 
rabbit,  for  the  rabbit  had  more  chance  of  escape  by 
being  missed.  To  hit  a  rabbit  in  the  body  was  scorned 
by  mountain-men,  and  was  deemed  careless,  slovenly 
work. 

Bearing  thirteen  rabbits  shot  each  through  the  head 
by  single  ball  from  the  flint-lock  Hawkins  mountain 
rifle,  Oliver  proudly  drove  the  Carson  "  cavvy  "  home 
at  evening.  Laden  like  valiant  hunter  he  trudged 
through  the  village,  to  exhibit  his  spoils — and  to  get 
his  supper. 

He  found  Taos  stirred  by  excitement.  Several 
strange  teamsters  were  forming  centres  of  little  groups 
of  listeners.  These  were  Santa  Fe  caravan  teamsters ; 
they  had  sought  Taos  to  report  that  between  Taos 
and  Santa  Fe  a  band  of  Indians  had  stampeded  four 
teen  span  of  their  mules,  and  to  ask  help  from  the  Kit 
Carson  men. 

At  an  unfortunate  moment  had  the  teamsters 
applied  for  the  succor.  Trappers  were  out  upon  the 
final  fur  hunt  of  the  year;  a  buffalo  hunt  for  Bent's 
Fort  was  in  progress;  Ike  Chamberlain  had  ridden 
away  that  morning,  upon  errand  bound ;  and  Kit  Car 
son  was  temporarily  pallet-laid  by  reason  of  a  pistol 
wound  through  the  left  leg.  His  new  Colt's  revolving 
pistol  had  fallen  from  his  belt,  and  striking  upon  its 
hammer  had  discharged  its  ball  diagonally  through 
between  knee  and  ankle. 

As  for  the  other  mer  in  Taos,  they  were  slothful 
47 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 


Mexican  loungers,  not  at  all  of  a  spirit  to  help  the 
Americans  fight  the  Indians.  "  Let  the  Americans  do 
their  own  fighting,"  they  said ;  "  we  want  only  to  be  let 
alone." 

Kit  Carson  was  much  perturbed,  half  sitting,  rest 
lessly,  on  his  couch  of  blankets  and  robes. 

"  What  you  got  thar,  boy  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Rabbits.  I  shot  every  one  in  the  head,"  informed 
Oliver. 

"  Let  me  see  'em." 

Oliver  brought  in  the  bunch,  and  threw  it  down 
before  Kit  Carson,  who  explored  it  with  his  sound 
foot. 

"  Wall !  "  he  mused,  slowly.  "  A  lad  who  can 
shoot  like  that  needn't  herd  cavvy.  It's  time  you  went 
on  the  hunt.  I'll  put  a  Mexican  at  herding."  Oliver's 
heart  leaped  gladly.  Kit  Carson  fidgeted,  ill  at  ease, 
and  continued :  "  Now  those  teamsters  have  come  in, 
expecting  us  to  help  'em  get 'back  their  stolen  critters, 
an*  I  haven't  got  a  single  man  to  send  out  after  the 
red  rascals.  An'  hyar  I'm  laid  up,  myself !  What  do 
you  think,  boy?  You  know  the  country.  Do  you 
reckon  you  could  take  these  fellows  an'  help  'em  get 
back  their  critters,  if  I  told  you  exactly  whar  to  go?  " 

Oliver  nodded.  His  eyes  were  big,  his  heart 
thumped  in  his  throat  so  that  at  last  he  could  only 
stammer : 

"I'll  try.    I  guess  I  could.    I'll  try." 

"  Wall,"  said  Kit,  still  restless,  "  nobody  can  do 
48 


OLIVER  WINS  HIS  SPURS 

more  than  try.  An'  hyar's  a  chance  for  you  at  moun 
tain-man  work.  'Less  I'm  much  mistaken,  those  red 

rascals  air  making  straight  for "  and  he  described 

to  Oliver  a  well-known  box-canyon  or  enclosed  pocket, 
among  the  hills  1 50  miles  westward.  Oliver  nodded ; 
he  had  been  that  far,  once,  upon  a  little  trip  with  Kit 
Carson,  and  he  remembered  the  trail.  "  They'll  take 
the  critters  thar  an*  hide  'em;  an'  now  they  won't  be 
expecting  pursuit.  With  everybody  fresh  mounted, 
if  you  leave  right  after  eating  this  evening  you  ought 
to  get  thar  to-morrow  evening,  so  as  to  rush  the  camp 
in  'arly  morning.  Pick  a  good  hoss  out  o'  the  cawy, 
for  yoreself.  Fust  go  get  something  to  eat.  Thar 
come  some  o'  the  men ;  I'll  tell  'em  what  we're  to  do." 

Treading  air  and  vastly  excited,  himself,  Oliver 
sped  away  to  make  his  preparations. 

"  Better  fill  yore  powder  flask,  boy,"  called  Kit, 
kindly.  "  Help  yoreself  from  my  horn,  yonder.  An' 
thar's  the  bullets.  They  fit  Ike's  gun.  But  don't 
shoot  'less  you  have  to;  an'  if  you  do  shoot,  shoot 
as  straight  as  if  you  war  shooting  rabbits.  Remem 
ber,  it  air  the  bullets  that  hit  that  count." 

"Yes,  sir;  I'll  remember,"  engaged  Oliver,  work 
ing  eagerly. 

So  presently  into  the  twilight  glow  rode  the  dozen 
teamsters,  armed  and  mounted  as  well  as  practicable. 
Two  and  two  they  rode :  their  bearded,  booted,  flannel- 
shirted  captain,  and  ragged  Oliver  high  on  a  yellow 
horse,  side  by  side  in  the  lead. 

4  49 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Through  the  twilight,  and  through  the  gloaming, 
and  through  the  starry  night,  at  trot  broken  by  now 
and  then  a  brief  space  of  walk,  westward  rode  the 
little  cavalcade,  to  surprise  the  Apaches. 

The  dark  blue  sky  gradually  paled ;  paled  the  dusky 
earth;  coyotes  homeward  slinked;  little  brown  birds 
twittered  amidst  the  brush;  from  the  east  spread  up 
ward  a  pink  radiance;  and  stiff  and  chilled  from  the 
night's  travel  through  the  great  open  sage  country,  at 
rising  of  the  sun  the  pursuit  jogged  into  the  first  of 
the  hill  defiles. 

As  they  rode,  the  horsemen  ate;  chewing  at  strips 
of  dried  buffalo  meat. 

Higher  and  more  numerous  waxed  the  hills,  their 
long  steep  slopes  covered  with  chaparral  and  stunted 
timber,  and  separated  by  bouldered  water-courses, 
many  of  them  dry.  The  trail  seemed  a  blind  one. 

"Do  ye  know  whar  you're  going,  boy?"  queried 
the  teamster  captain,  doubtfully. 

"  Yes,  sir.  I've  been  in  here  before,  and  Kit  Car 
son  told  me,"  answered  Oliver,  hard  at  work  thinking, 
and  peering  keenly. 

At  noon  they  rested  by  a  stream,  and  let  the  horses 
graze,  and  dozed,  themselves,  while  down  upon  the 
wild  maze  of  quiet  wooded  hills  poured  the  generous 
sun — his  beams  hot  in  the  thin  atmosphere. 

After  their  nooning,  again  they  rode.  The  coun 
try  had  grown  wilder;  the  hills  had  become  peaks, 
snow-capped;  the  water-courses  had  cut  deep  gulches 

50 


OLIVER  WINS  HIS  SPURS 

and  canyons.  It  was  the  favorite  region  of  the  Jica- 
rilla  ( Heek-ah-ree-yah,  i.e.,  Basket)  Apaches;  the 
ancient  volcano  land  of  northern  New  Mexico  west 
of  the  Rio  Grande.  Here  the  Jicarillas  had  their 
retreats. 

Now  the  pursuit  must  ride  more  carefully,  for 
Oliver  was  not  certain  but  that  they  might  be  near  the 
Indians.  So  they  scanned  every  ridge  to  catch  timely 
glimpse  of  Indian  scout,  and  every  hollow  to  catch 
glimpse  of  tell-tale  smoke.  An  oddly-shaped  little 
peak  was  the  landmark;  and  as  by  way  of  draw  and 
pass,  from  valley  to  valley,  they  neared  it,  Oliver's 
heart  beat  faster.  Below  the  peak  was  that  box-canyon 
or  enclosed  basin  where,  according  to  Kit  Carson's 
judgment,  the  stolen  stock  would  be  hidden. 

At  last  the  wearied  little  cavalcade  wound  around 
a  wooded  shoulder  and  could  scan  the  spot  where  lay 
the  outlaw  refuge.  Up-wafted  lazily,  as  from  the  basin 
itself,  into  the  sunset  atmosphere  above  the  fringing 
trees  and  rocks,  a  film  of  hazy  blue  smoke.  Indian 
camp! 

However,  too  late  was  it,  this  day,  to  attack ;  dark 
ness  would  interfere.  So  the  pursuit  rode  nearer,  and 
sent  two  men  forward  afoot  to  spy.  They  left;  and 
they  returned,  scratched  and  grimy,  in  the  dusk,  to 
report  that  a  Jicarilla  camp  was  located  in  the  basin, 
that  the  Indians  were  gorging  and  making  merry 
around  a  fire,  and  that  more  than  fourteen  span  of 
mules,  evidently  stolen,  were  grazing  freely,  hobbled 

51 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

not  nor  tethered,  upon  the  grass  of  the  secluded  niche. 
Having  driven  their  spoil  150  miles  into  the  heart  of 
the  Apache  mountains,  the  Indians  evidently  were 
expecting  no  interference. 

And  here,  likewise  150  miles  from  white  settle 
ment,  the  pursuit  grimly  squatted  down  to  a  fireless 
night  and  a  long  wait  until  dawn.  They  slept  at  inter 
vals;  even  Oliver  slept,  exultant  though  he  was  at 
having  led  true,  and  anxious  though  he  was  for  further 
results. 

The  dawn  grayed;  the  men  stiffly  stirred  about, 
saddling  their  hunched  horses  and  priming  afresh  their 
weapons. 

"  Let  the  boy  show  the  trail/'  bade  the  teamster 
leader,  gruffly.  "He's  been  hyar'bouts  before,  he 
says." 

Oliver  was  nothing  loth ;  Kit  Carson  had  told  him 
exactly  where  to  strike  the  one  entrance  into  the  basin 
— the  one  entrance  which  also  was  the  one  exit.  There 
fore,  carrying  the  Ike  Chamberlain  rifle  in  approved 
fashion  in  hollow  of  left  arm,  ready,  Oliver  forced 
his  yellow  horse  into  the  advance. 

"  When  we  charge,  everybody  yell  '  Kit  Carson ! 
Kit  Carson ! '  '  he  proposed,  huskily.  "  When  they 
hear  that  they'll  run,  sure.  They're  afraid  of  Kit 
Carson." 

The  teamster  leader  gravely  nodded ;  and  down  the 
dim  file,  following  the  yellow  horse,  was  passed  the 
word:  "Yell  'Kit  Carson'!" 

52 


OLIVER  WINS  HIS  SPURS 

The  mist  of  dawn  enveloped  the  world,  and  lay 
moist  upon  twig  and  leaf.  In  silence  the  single  file 
threaded  the  pines ;  the  moist  carpeting  of  needles  gave 
no  sound.  Into  a  gravelly  draw  through  which  ran 
a  newly  hoof-cut  trail  they  rode ;  boulders  closed  about 
them;  a  stream  flowed  past  for  the  outer  country; 
they  quickened  their  pace  to  a  trot;  and,  every  rifle 
poised,  at  a  gallop  they  poured  through  the  narrow 
entrance  and  charged  across  the  open  park  inside. 

"  Kit  Carson !  Kit  Carson !  "  shrilled  little  Oliver, 
excitedly  hammering  with  his  moccasined  heels  the 
flanks  of  his  yellow  horse. 

"  Kit  Carson!  Kit  Carson! "  welled  hoarsely  the 
chorus  behind  him. 

Barked  Apache  dogs;  snorted  Apache  pony  and 
stolen  mule,  stampeding  here  and  there  in  the  gray- 
ness.  Spreading,  on  left  and  right,  the  charging  team 
sters  overtook  Oliver.  Before,  recumbent  figures 
around  the  smouldering  fires  had  up-leaped,  throwing 
off  blankets  and  robes,  seizing  weapons,  hesitating,  to 
discharge  hasty  bullet  or  arrow,  and  at  thud  of  hoof, 
crack  of  rifle,  and  that  terrible  cry,  "  Kit  Carson !  Kit 
Carson !  "  half-naked  to  flee,  through  the  grayness — 
scurrying  across  the  level  and  scrambling  amidst  the 
rocky  walls. 

"  Whang!  "  spoke  Oliver's  Ike  Chamberlain  rifle — 
its  butt  half-way  to  his  shoulder,  its  heavy  muzzle 
pointed  out  in  the  general  direction  of  the  rout. 

53 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

And  "  Whang!"  "Bang!"  spoke  the  pieces  of 
the  teamsters. 

Fleeing  figures  pitched  headlong  to  the  dewy 
sward ;  from  amidst  the  rocks  of  the  crumbling,  sheer 
walls,  where,  at  bay,  they  vainly  answered  with  shot 
and  yell,  others  pitched  headlong,  or  sank  back,  to  be 
still.  While  two  or  three  of  their  number  guarded  the 
exit,  that  the  ponies  and  mules  might  not  escape,  the 
teamsters  charged  on,  searching  the  rocks  with  rifle 
and  pistol ;  and  not  an  Indian  of  the  eighteen  thieving 
warriors  was  left  alive. 

But  young  Oliver  found  that  this  was  very  differ 
ent  from  shooting  at  rabbits;  and  in  after  days  he 
never  was  certain  whether  he  had  killed  all — or  none. 
However,  he  fired  only  the  one  shot;  and  at  the  close 
of  the  battle  he  still  was  trying  to  reload ! 

In  the  sunrise,  with  eighteen  ponies  bearing  Apache 
brands  or  ear-marks,  and  with  thirty- five  mules  and 
horses  bearing  trader  or  trapper  brands  or  ear-marks, 
the  triumphant  little  cavalcade  rode  out  from  the 
trampled  strong-hold,  upon  trail  for  Taos.  Sharing 
with  the  teamster  leader  the  advance,  Oliver  sat 
proudly  his  yellow  horse.  He  had  earned  his  place. 

At  the  close  of  the  second  day  they  entered  Taos. 
Summoned  by  the  great  clatter  of  hoofs  and  the  loud 
volley  of  triumphant  whoops,  the  villagers  cheered. 

"  Buen'  muchacho ! "  praised  the  natives,  calling 
to  Oliver:  "  Good  boy!" 

54 


OLIVER  WINS  HIS  SPURS 

And  Oliver  passed  on,  to  share  in  the  report  by  the 
teamster  captain  at  the  house  of  Kit  Carson. 

Kit  Carson  said  little,  but  his  blue-gray  eyes 
brightened. 

"  Wall,  I  reckoned  you'd  find  'em  thar,"  he  said, 
from  his  couch  against  the  wall.  "  Hyar,  boy ;  fetch 
me  that  gun  yonder." 

Oliver  brought  over  to  him,  from  the  corner,  the 
weapon.  Kit  Carson  handed  it  back  to  him. 

"Take  it.  It's  yores,"  he  said.  "Now  you're 
a  mountain-man,  an'  what's  a  mountain-man  without  a 
rifle?  You're  a  mountain-man  an'  a  Kit  Carson  man, 
an'  it's  'bout  time  you  went  on  the  trap  trail.  But," 
he  added,  with  a  twinkle,  noting  Oliver's  confusion, 
"  you'll  have  time  to  eat,  fust,  an'  sleep." 

Clutching  his  treasure,  and  crowded  with  thanks 
which  he  could  not  utter  yet,  Oliver  staggered  away. 

Kit  Carson's  rifle !  Kit  Carson's  own  rifle !  A  rifle 
better  than  even  Ike  Chamberlain's;  for  Ike's  was  a 
flint-lock,  whereas  this,  scarce  a  year  old,  was  of  the 
convenient  new  percussion-cap  invention,  and  had  cost 
sixty  dollars,  gold.  Moreover,  in  the  stock  were  nine 
teen  brass-headed  tacks,  stuck  there  by  Kit  Carson, 
and  each  counting  as  an  Indian  scalp! 


IV 
WORD  FROM  OLD  FORT  LARAMIE 

SPRING  and  the  beaver-hunt  season  opened.  The 
whole  Carson  company  organized  for  a  trip  far  to  the 
north.  Oliver  was  apportioned  his  dozen  traps,  and 
his  name  was  upon  the  pay-roll.  The  company  left 
early  in  March;  but  Ike  Chamberlain  was  in  charge, 
for  Kit  Carson  had  astonished  them  all  by  announcing 
that  he  was  going  to  the  States. 

"  It's  time  my  little  gal  had  education,"  he  said, 
quietly.  "  Touse  or  Bent's  air  no  place  for  her,  or 
Santy  Fee  either,  an'  I'm  no  fit  person  to  raise  her. 
I've  got  kin  back  thar  in  Missouri,  an*  maybe  I  can 
put  her  with  some  o'  them,  so  she'll  grow  up  with 
white  people  an*  learn  civilized  ways." 

"  Have  you  been  back  thar  since  you  come  out, 
Kit  ?  "  asked  somebody. 

Carson  shook  his  head. 

"Nope,"  he  said;  "in  the  sixteen  years  the  only 
settlements  I've  seen  air  trading  posts  o'  plains  an' 
mountains,  an*  Touse  an'  Santy  Fee.  I  war  a  boy 
when  in  fall  o'  Twenty-six  I  left  home.  Ought  to 
have  gone  back,  but  didn't.  They  say  now  Missouri's 

56 


WORD  FROM  OLD  FORT  LARAMIE 

grown  a  heap,  an'  I  won't  know  Franklin  town,  an' 
thar's  so  many  other  towns  I'll  be  lost." 

"  Independence  air  the  outfit  point  o'  the  Santy 
Fee  caravans,  now,"  observed  Ike  Chamberlain — a 
fact  that  all  knew.  "  Franklin  air  too  far  down-river. 
An'  thar's  a  new  movement  on — to  Oregon  in  the 
Northwest  country;  starts  from  the  Missouri  at  Inde 
pendence  same  as  Santy  Fee  trade  does.  Those  mis 
sionaries  who  went  out  to  the  lower  Columbia,  over  the 
South  Pass  an'  the  Snake  River  trail,  in  Thirty-four 
an'  after,  have  been  making  big  talks  through  the 
States,  'bout  how  Oregon  air  the  place  for  'Merican 
farmers  'stead  o'  British  fur-hunters,  an'  Congress  has 
been  argufying,  an'  Lu  has  jest  heard  from  some  o' 
his  folks  that  thar's  a  regular  movement  afoot  this 
spring  to  send  a  big  wagon-train  o'  settlers  out  by  the 
Platte  an'  Laramie  trail,  over  South  Pass  an'  clear 
through  to  the  Columbia.  Isn't  that  so,  Lu  ?  " 

Lucien  Maxwell  nodded.  He  was  a  dark,  broad- 
shouldered  young  man,  about  twenty-three,  and  a 
favorite  of  Kit  Carson's.  He  was  not  in  the  Carson 
company,  exactly,  but  was  a  trader  with  the  Indians 
and  for  the  Bent,  St.  Vrain  &  Co.,  on  the  Santa  Fe 
Trail  and  between  Bent's  Fort  and  Fort  St.  Vrain.  He 
was  much  at  Taos,  where  he  had  just  married  the 
Senorita  Luz  Beaubien,  daughter  of  Charles  Beaubien, 
one  of  Taos'  most  cultured  residents.  As  Maxwell  was 
much  upon  the  trader  trail  to  the  States,  and  as  he 

57 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

lived,  or  at  least  his  parents  lived,  at  old  Kaskaskia, 
Illinois,  below  St.  Louis,  he  carried  much  news. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.  "  I've  a  letter  and  a  news 
paper  from  home  that  say  that  Doctor  White — Elijah 
White,  who's  been  missionary  doctor  in  Oregon;  you 
fellows  have  heard  him — has  been  appointed  Indian 
agent  for  the  United  States  in  Oregon;  and  when  he 
goes  out  this  spring  a  lot  of  settlers  are  going,  too,  so 
as  to  have  him  take  'em  through." 

"  Wagh !  "  grunted  an  old  trapper.  "  Fat  doings 
for  Injuns!  Thar'll  be  hosses  to  steal  an'  ha'r  to  lift, 
I'm  thinking.  Sioux  an'  Blackfeet  air  half-froze  for 
jest  sech  a  caravan  o'  greenhorns  on  a  trail  'crost  con 
tinent.  Wagh!  This  chile'd  rather  go  it  alone." 

"  Thar  ought  to  be  a  line  o'  posts  from  the  Mis 
souri  clear  to  the  mountains,  all  'long  the  trail ;  an'  over 
across,  too,  if  folks  from  the  States  air  going  to  travel 
it,"  declared  Chamberlain. 

"  That  ees  so.  Dose  Injuns,  dey  get  mad  when  dey 
see  so  many  whites  in  buffalo  country;  an'  dose  Brit 
ishers  in  Oregon,  dey  jus'  as  soon  Americans  stay  on 
dees  side  Rocky  Mountains,"  agreed  Mariano,  Mexican 
trapper. 

"  Well,  this  paper  has  a  message  in  it  from  Wash 
ington,  and  there's  talk  of  a  government  expedition 
going  out  over  the  trail  this  very  spring,  to  survey  it 
and  maybe  see  what  can  be  done,"  informed  Maxwell. 

"  Wagh !  "  grunted  the  old  trapper.  "  Hyar's 
a  coon  that  doesn't  need  ary  government  expedition 

58 


WORD  FROM  OLD  FORT  LARAMIE 

to  show  him  the  trail.  He  travelled  it  with  Ashley  in 
Twenty- four,  he  did;  an'  he  war  over  the  South  Pass 
an'  into  the  Green  River  country  t'other  side,  an'  he's 
trapped  through  to  the  Columbia  an'  Vancouver,  an' 
to  Calif orny,  too.  Can't  tell  mountain-men  'bout  the 
way  to  Oregon." 

"  Yep ;  an'  those  missionary  women  crossed 
through  in  Thirty-six,  an'  more  in  Thirty-eight," 
chimed  in  another.  "  That  broke  the  trail  to  the 
Oregon  country,  sure." 

"  Seems  to  me  the  government  must  be  planning 
a  line  of  forts,  and  the  expedition  will  spy  out  and  report 
on  that,"  remarked  Maxwell.  "  Like  as  not  an  army 
man  will  lead  it." 

"  Oregon  country  air  a  fine  country,"  asserted 
somebody.  "  Think  o'  trying  it,  myself.  'Most  went 
thar  as  settler  when  Joe  Meek  an'  Doc  Newell  an' 
others  took  the  Columbia  Trail  after  last  rendezvous 
in  Thirty-nine." 

"  T  res-belle,  ess  eet.  I  hear  so  from  my  cousin, 
who  leeve  in  la  valle  Weellamette.  He  was  Hudson 
Bay  man,  trapper;  now  he  farmer,"  volunteered  Henri 
Menard,  French-Canadian  of  St.  Louis. 

Such  was  the  talk  following  upon  Kit  Carson's 
quiet  announcement  that  he  would  go  back  this  spring 
by  early  caravan  to  Missouri,  and  there  leave  his  little 
half-Indian  Adaline,  to  give  her  the  schooling  which 
he  had  missed.  And  Lucien  Maxwell  said  he 

59 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  guessed  "  that  he  would  go,  too,  and  visit  his  parents 
and  other  relatives  at  Kaskaskia. 

For  the  remainder  of  the  company,  north  led  the 
trapper  trail :  from  old  Taos  up  through  the  mountains 
of  central  Colorado,  into  the  South  Park,  thence  on 
over  by  wild  passes  into  the  Middle  Park.  They  set 
their  beaver  traps  in  the  side  streams  of  the  Grand 
River.  It  seemed  best  not  to  go  on  further,  for  Indian 
trouble  was  rumored. 

This  was  Ute  country,  and  the  friendly  dark  Utes 
with  their  squaws  followed  the  camps — the  squaws 
skinning  the  beaver  and  asking  only  the  carcass  or  a 
pinch  of  sugar,  the  bucks  gorging  and  trading.  Deer 
meat,  elk  meat,  buffalo  meat,  and  delicious  roast 
beaver-tail  which  looked  like  thick  gelatin  and  tasted 
like  saltless  pig's-feet,  was  the  camp  menu.  It  was 
a  very  pleasant  trapping  trip. 

About  June  i,  with  eighteen  packs  of  beaver,  otter, 
and  martin  pelts — each  beaver  or  otter  bale  containing 
eighty  skins — half  the  company,  led  by  Ike  Chamber 
lain,  rode  out  for  Taos;  the  others  stayed  in,  to  rest 
and  "  make  meat  "  and  repair  equipment,  until  opened 
the  fall  fur  hunt.  In  the  homeward  travelling  com 
pany  was  Oliver,  now  a  seasoned  trapper  as  well  as  an 
accepted  "  Carson  man." 

Old  Taos  had  not  changed  in  the  three  months. 
Only,  Kit  Carson  had  gone,  as  promised,  to  the  States. 
He  had  caught  the  first  of  the  Bent,  St.  Vrain  &  Co. 
goods  caravans  out  of  Bent's  Fort  for  Missouri,  five 


WORD  FROM  OLD  FORT  LARAMIE 

hundred  and  more  miles,  to  put  Adaline  where  she 
would  get  some  education.  Lucien  Maxwell  had  gone, 
too. 

"Wall,  Kit  won't  stay  long,"  drawled  Ike— his 
first  remark  after  hearing  the  facts.  "  He'll  find  things 
are  different;  the  frontier's  grown  up  with  people,  an' 
he'll  feel  lonesome,  'mongst  'em.  He'll  be  coming 
back  to  Touse,  right  soon." 

Indeed,  according  to  opinion  'twas  time  for  his 
return  already;  and  in  mid-afternoon  of  the  day  after 
their  own  arrival,  Oliver,  upon  the  front  porch  of  the 
Carson  house,  his  attention  attracted  to  a  bustle  and  to 
the  hurrying  figure  of  Ike,  thought  that  Kit  might 
be  in  town  or  at  least  at  Bent's  Fort.  Through  the 
plaza  hastened  tall  Ike;  straight- footed,  slightly  bow- 
legged,  carrying,  as  customary,  his  long  rifle. 

"  Get  yore  outfit  ready  for  the  trail  ag'in,"  he 
bade,  quickly,  with  scarce  a  pause.  "  Word  from  Kit 
says  to  meet  him  at  Fort  Laramie,  pronto!  Leave 
to-morrow." 

"  All  right,"  answered  Oliver,  astonished,  but 
knowing  better  than  to  delay  Ike  for  foolish  questions. 

Still,  this  was  most  sudden  and  unexpected.  What 
was  Kit  Carson  doing  up  at  Fort  Laramie,  on  the 
Oregon  Trail,  when  he  should  have  been  at  Bent's 
Fort,  on  the  Santa  Fe  Trail?  Oliver  set  out  after 
information. 

The  first  of  the  company  whom  he  encountered  was 

61 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Mariano  Medino,  the  Mexican,  squatting  and  filling  a 
powder-horn  in  a  doorway. 

"  Ike  has  seen  you?  "  queried  Mariano. 

"Yes.     What's  news?" 

"  Ah,  that  Keet  Carson,  he  say  '  Come  to  Lara- 
mie/  an'  we  come.  That  all  I  know,"  answered  Mari 
ano,  busily. 

"  Who  brought  the  word?  " 

"  Dos  (two)  Injuns.  See?  Over  there,"  directed 
Mariano,  with  nod  of  head. 

Oliver  looked,  and  noted  a  little  knot  of  towns 
people — mainly  Mexicans,  shoulders  and  heads 
shrouded  in  scrapes  or  native  blankets — standing  be 
fore  the  Bent,  St.  Vrain  &  Co.  local  warehouse  and 
gazing  at  the  doorway.  So  across  the  plaza  he  trudged. 

The  knot  was  scrutinizing,  without  much  com 
ment,  two  Indians  who  leaned,  stolid  and  unaffected 
and  haughty,  against  the  doorway  posts.  They  were 
Indians  of  lighter  coppery  complexion  than  the  Kiowas 
or  the  Apaches  or  the  Utes:  they  were  as  light  as  a 
Cheyenne,  and  one  had  a  scraggly  moustache  of  black 
hairs.  By  this,  and  by  the  beading  of  their  shirts  and 
the  shape  of  their  moccasins,  Oliver  (a  mountain-man) 
knew  them  to  be  Indians  of  a  strange  tribe.  A  voice 
at  his  elbow  interrupted  his  examination. 

"Those  are  Delawares,  boy."  It  was  Bill  Will 
iams  who  spoke — Bill  Williams,  sometimes  called 
"  Preacher  "  Williams ;  not  a  Carson  man,  but  an  odd 
old  trapper  who  from  his  lone  trail  occasionally  ap- 

62 


WORD  FROM  OLD  FORT  LARAMIE 

peared  in  Taos.  "  Eastern  Injuns  they  be,  who  war 
moved  by  the  government  into  the  Injun  country  'long 
the  Missouri  frontier.  Big  hunters  an'  fighters,  but 
don't  often  get  to  the  mountains/' 

"  Are  they  the  express  from  Kit?  " 

"  They  are  the  runners  from  Kit.  Sent  'em  from 
the  mouth  o'  the  Kaw,  or  Kansas  Landing  'bove  In 
dependence.  Understand  they  came  through,  the  seven 
hundred  miles,  in  'leven  days,  which  is  good  travel." 

So  it  was;  and  evidently,  therefore,  the  message 
from  Carson  for  his  men  to  meet  him  at  Fort  Laramie 
was  urgent.  And  little  time  could  be  spent  preparing ; 
none  could  be  wasted;  for  as  everybody  knew,  Fort 
Laramie  was  four  hundred  miles  from  Bent's  Fort, 
and  Bent's  Fort  was  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from 
Taos. 

Now  must  the  Kit  Carson  men  at  Taos  fall  to, 
making  ready.  Bullets  must  be  moulded,  powder-horns 
replenished,  repairs  put  upon  saddle  and  shirt  and  leg- 
gins,  new  moccasins  found  or  the  old  ones  soled  again. 
Nobody  might  tell  whither  this  next  trail  led,  nor  how 
long  ere  it  would  turn  home;  and  few  cared,  even 
though  they  had  just  come  in  from  another  trail  of 
three  months. 

Two  men  were  sent  back  to  the  summer  camp  to 
tell  the  Sol  Silver  party  what  had  happened;  three 
were  assigned  to  see  the  bales  of  pelts  through  to 
market  at  St.  Louis;  and  before  noon  of  the  following 
day  the  rest,  fifteen  of  them,  under  Lieutenant  Ike, 

63 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

with  plenty  of  horses  and  mules  for  saddle  and  pack, 
clattered  out  of  Taos,  bound  straight  for  Fort  Laramie, 
more  than  six  hundred  miles  away. 

Riding  northward,  on  the  sixth  day  the  hurrying 
squad  emerged  in  sight  of  Bent's  Fort,  above  whose 
brown,  high  walls  flew  the  Stars  and  Stripes :  a  token 
and  a  challenge,  planted  here  on  the  farthest  border 
where  the  United  States  met  Mexico. 

Fording  the  Arkansas,  in  this  the  southeastern  part 
of  present  Colorado,  the  Carson  men  were  in  American 
territory.  Swarthy  William  Bent,  proprietor,  who 
lived  at  the  fort,  and  whose  wife  was  a  Cheyenne 
woman,  welcomed  them  into  the  broad  gateway. 

Mr.  Bent  was  enabled  to  supply  a  little  news. 

"  Why,  yes,  there's  a  lot  of  talk  this  spring  of 
emigration  to  the  Oregon  country,"  he  said ;  "  reports 
from  Missouri  are,  that  some  one  hundred  settlers, 
including  women  and  children,  left,  middle  of  May, 
over  the  trail  for  Oregon.  And  a  government  expedi 
tion's  afoot.  Maxwell's  been  hired  for  it.  Like  as  not 
you'll  find  Kit's  mixed  up  in  some  of  that  business, 
too." 

From  Bent's,  with  its  brave  flag,  its  brass  cannon 
piece  upon  the  wall,  and  its  sturdy  garrison,  on  pushed 
the  squad. 

Two  hundred  miles  more  they  rode,  until,  where 
green  foothills  met  green  plains,  under  the  eye  of 
Long's  Peak,  was  stationed,  as  Oliver  well  knew,  Fort 
St.  Vrain,  brother  post  to  Bent's.  He  was  wondering 

64 


WORD  FROM  OLD  FORT  LARAMIE 

whether  Ike  was  not  intending  to  swing  into  the  west 
and  visit  this  post,  when,  like  the  others,  he  sighted 
a  horseman  approaching  at  a  gallop. 

"  Injuns !  "  cried  voices  in  the  cavalcade. 

"  White  man,  I  reckon,"  cried  others. 

"Close  up,  close  up,"  ordered  Lieutenant  Ike, 
gruffly.  "  An'  keep  yore  eyes  peeled  for  more." 

Rapidly  the  horseman  approached.  Nearer  he 
drew,  speeding  recklessly,  his  pony  now  and  then 
jumping  to  avoid  a  badger  hole  or  prairie-dog  hole. 
Presently  could  be  descried  his  long  hair  and  a  'ker 
chief  turban  streaming  in  the  breeze  that  he  made; 
above  his  head  he  flourished  his  rifle — its  muzzle  puffed 
smoke,  as  signal  that  he  was  a  friend  and  was  coming 
with  empty  gun. 

"  White !  "  grunted  several  voices,  simultaneously. 

"  Wagh !  "  uttered  another.  "  Not  exactly,  boys. 
If  that  airn't  Jim  Beckwith,  I'm  a  beaver !  " 

Jim  Beckwith!  Oliver  knew  Jim  Beckwith — or 
Beckwourth,  as  he  called  himself — and  had  seen  him  in 
Taos.  He  was  a  mixed  blood,  half  French  and  half 
negro,  and  was  celebrated  because,  when  early  a  trap 
per,  he  had  been  adopted  by  the  Crow  Indians  and 
made  a  head  war-chief. 

Arriving,  while  jogged  the  squad,  he  halted  his 
pony  by  pulling  it  to  its  haunches.  A  romantic  figure 
he  was,  with  head  bare,  Indian  fashion,  with  dark, 
handsome,  almost  Indian  features,  his  sinewy,  grace- 

5  65 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 


fill  frame  sheathed  in  gaily  fringed  and  beaded 
buckskin. 

"  How,"  he  greeted. 

"  How,"  and  "  Hello,  Jim,"  greeted  the  squad. 

"FromTouse?" 

"  Yep." 

"Where  bound?" 

"  Up  to  Fort  John." 

"What's  the  news?" 

"  Nothing  much.    Kit  sent  for  us,  is  all." 

"  Wants  you  on  that  expedition." 

"What  expedition?" 

"  Government." 

"How'd  you  know?" 

"  'Cause  part  of  it's  just  passed  on  up  through  St. 
Vrain.  I  was  there  and  saw  it.  Young  army  fellow 
by  name  of  Fremont's  captain,  and  he  said  Carson  and 
rest  of  the  crowd  are  waiting  at  Laramie.  Maxwell 
was  along,  too,  and  he  said  same.  Maxwell's  hunter, 
Kit's  guide.  Kit  took  one  party  up  by  way  the  North 
Platte  trail,  Fremont  and  Maxwell  came  in  'cross  coun 
try  by  South  Platte.  They're  all  to  meet  at  Fort  John 
or  Laramie." 

"  Heap  doings,"  muttered  Lieutenant  Ike. 
"  What's  the  lodge  talk?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oregon  trail's  being  broken  by  settlers.  First 
company's  already  passed  Laramie.  Sioux  are  bad, 
and  Gros  Vents  and  Cheyennes  have  joined  'em,  for 
war-path  up  Sweetwater.  They're  hot  for  Crow  and 

66 


WORD  FROM  OLD  FORT  LARAMIE 

white  scalps,  and  Snake  bosses.    You  fellows  are  liable 

to  lose  ha'r." 

"Wagh!     But  what's  this  hyar  expedition  for?" 
"  To  make  the  trail  wider.    To  tell  the  government 

at  Washington  where  South  Pass  is,  near  as  I  could 

find  out  from  Maxwell." 

"  But  who  doesn't  know  whar  South  Pass  air !  " 

exclaimed  a  chorus. 

"  Wall,"  quoth  Lieutenant  Ike,  "  if  we've  all  been 

thar  once  we  can  all  go  thar  ag'in.     Kit's  sent  for  us, 

an'  that's  'nough.    Come  on,  boys." 


V 
FREMONT  SAYS  "  ONWARD  ! »' 


"  THAR'S  Fort  John,"  directed  Oliver's  trail  com 
rade,  William  New. 

This  was  the  fourth  day  after  the  meeting  with 
Jim  Beckwith ;  the  march  had  been  steadily  northward, 
with  snowy  mountains  distant  on  the  left,  and  with  far 
bleak  ridges  showing  ever  more  clear,  in  the  north. 

"Thar's  Fort  John/'  directed  William  New. 
"  Those  mountains  beyond  it  are  the  Black  Hills,  whar 
the  Sioux  an'  Cheyenne  cache  themselves." 

"  Is  that  the  same  as  Fort  Laramie  ? "  asked 
Oliver. 

"  Yep.  That  beaver  has  two  tails,  is  all.  John  war 
what  the  Company  (and  by  this  Oliver  knew  that  he 
meant  the  great  American  Fur  Company)  named  it, 
an'  that's  what  most  o'  us  old  trappers  call  it;  but 
'  Laramie  '  is  the  general  name  'mongst  traders,  an' 
some  trappers  too.  You  see,  it's  on  Laramie  Fork  o' 
the  North  Platte,  an'  that  peak  over  it  is  Laramie 
Peak,  so  '  Laramie'  's  a  natteral  word." 

While  still  riding  northward  as  if  to  pass  by  Fort 
Laramie  on  the  other  side  of  Laramie  Creek,  the  squad 
encountered  a  plain  trail,  almost  a  road,  running  east 


FREMONT  SAYS  "  ONWARD  " 

and  west;  and  into  this  turned  at  once  Lieutenant  Ike 
and  fellow  leader.  Therefore  turned  into  it  all,  as 
matter  of  course. 

"  Hyar's  yore  way  to  Oregon,"  announced  William 
New,  for  benefit  of  Oliver.  "  But  thar's  been  a  heap  o' 
people  passed  along  since  a  year  ago.  Wagh,  thar  has ! 
Sign's  fresh,  too — people,  wagons  an'  cattle !  " 

"An'  thar's  whar  we  find  Kit,  I  reckon,"  spoke 
a  horseman  of  the  pair  in  front,  nodding  before. 

"Yes;  an'  Injuns,  too,"  added  his  comrade. 
u  'Drather  find  'em  thar  than  on  ahead." 

"  See  those  lodges  ?  "  directed  William  New,  to 
Oliver.  "  Sioux  lodges.  Few  Cheyenne,  but  mostly 
Sioux— Ogalallah." 

Before,  beyond  the  sparse  willows  and  cotton  wood 
of  the  creek,  stood  forth  boldly  upon  a  little  knoll  the 
post  of  Fort  Laramie  or  Fort  John.  The  walls  were 
of  adobe  clay,  like  the  walls  of  Bent's  Fort,  but  white 
washed,  after  Mexican  fashion,  like  many  of  the  houses 
in  Taos.  The  fort  had  towers,  at  diagonal  corners, 
square  and  peaked ;  and  over  the  principal  gateway  was 
another  tower  or  sentry-box,  floating  the  Stars  and 
Stripes.  Along  the  tops  of  the  walls  stood,  like  teeth, 
a  row  of  palisades.  Close  beside  the  walls  and  below 
the  post  were  a  collection  of  conical  white  tents — evi 
dently  Indian  lodges  of  tanned  buffalo  hides. 

Many  figures  were  strolling  about :  figures  in  buck 
skins  and  wool,  as  well  as  figures  in  blankets  and  robes. 

"  Thar's  Kit,  or  else  this  chile's  eyes  don't  know 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

fat  cow  from  pore  bull !  "  exclaimed  a  voice.  "  An' 
thar's  more  of  'em  camped  nigh  the  river,  up  above !  " 

Through  the  ford,  where  had  crossed  the  wheels 
and  hoofs  of  preceding  companies,  plashed  the  squad, 
at  trot ;  at  gallop  mounted  the  rise  which  waited ;  and 
with  trapper  whoop  and  Indian  yelp,  and  "  Whang!  " 
of  sundry  rifle,  charged  for  the  gate  of  old  Laramie. 

The  Indians,  blanketed  to  their  chins,  stoically 
stared;  from  the  walls  and  from  the  gateway  the  post 
employes  witnessed,  unperturbed,  for  they  were  accus 
tomed  to  such  arrival;  a  few  other  trappers,  lounging 
about,  whooped  back,  with  wave  of  hand ;  and  a  wiry, 
sandy,  short-legged,  broad-shouldered  little  man,  vault 
ing  upon  a  horse,  dashed  out,  full  speed  for  the  short 
distance,  hat-brim  flaring,  hair  and  fringes  streaming, 
to  meet  the  incomers. 

"Told  'ee  it  war  Kit!  Rides  like  an  Injun !" 
chuckled  the  previous  speaker. 

"  Hello,  Kit." 

"  Hello,  boys."  He  checked  his  horse  as  quickly 
as  he  had  started  it.  "  Glad  to  see  ye.  Thar's  our 
camp,  up  above." 

"  Wall,  got  yore  express,  an*  hyar  we  air,"  volun 
teered  Ike,  as  all  rode  on.  "  What's  the  news?  " 

"  Government  expedition  to  the  South  Pass ;  maybe 
further.  Lieutenant  Fremont,  army  man,  is  boss; 
Maxwell's  hunter,  I'm  guide.  The  lieutenant's  got 
twenty  or  so  fust-class  St.  Louis  Frenchmen  hired  for 
the  trip,  but  seemed  to  me  I'd  feel  more  comfortable 

70 


JOHN   CHARLES   FREMONT 


FREMONT  SAYS  "  ONWARD  " 

if  I  had  some  o'  my  own  crowd.  So  I  sent  those  two 
Delawares  to  Touse,  with  the  word." 

As  they  were  about  to  pass  the  post  another  horse 
man  spurred  out,  intercepting  them.  The  fact  that 
this  was  the  "  army  man,"  government  "  boss  "  of  the 
expedition,  was  impressed  upon  the  cavalcade,  and  all 
eyes  turned  to  scrutinize  the  rider  as  he  approached. 

He  rode  well  and  easily — but  with  somewhat 
longer  stirrup  than  the  short  Indian-hung  stirrup 
of  the  Carson  men,  and  sitting  rather  more  erect 
than  was  trapper  custom.  His  costume  bore  scarce 
a  trace  of  army  uniform;  he  wore  a  short  plain 
blue  blouse,  half  unbuttoned,  over  blue  flannel  shirt 
and  ordinary  jean  trousers  tucked  into  high  moc 
casins,  while  his  head-gear  was  the  broad  curly- 
brimmed  wool  hat  of  the  plains  and  mountains. 
He  carried  no  sword.  However,  athwart  his  saddle- 
horn  was  lying  the  inevitable  rifle.  His  figure  was 
more  slender  than  Kit  Carson's;  he  was  about  two 
inches  taller,  and  evidently  he  weighed  about  the  same. 
He  had  a  full  brown  beard,  rather  compact  and  wavy, 
oval  face,  white  skin  now  tanned,  bold  clean-cut  nose 
jutting  like  the  keel  of  a  boat,  and  large  eyes  of 
flashing  blue.  He  was  not  any  older  than  Kit,  much 
handsomer,  altogether  a  different  style  of  man — more 
excitable,  more  dashing,  more  like  Kit  was  in  an  Indian 
fight.  Yes,  here  was  another  type  of  leader. 

"  Got  your  men,  I  see,"  he  addressed,  reining  in, 
with  a  rapid  glance  along  the  column. 

71 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  Yep,"  drawled  Kit.    "  Hyar  they  are." 

"  And  one  boy,  too/'  added  the  lieutenant,  with  a 
smile  at  Oliver.  "  That  will  make  my  boys  envious." 

"  Wall,"  remarked  Kit,  "  he's  man  an'  on  the  pay 
roll.  'Tisn't  size  that  counts,  always." 

The  camp  was  close  ahead.  It  consisted  of  about 
a  dozen  small  cone-shaped  tents  of  dingy  canvas;  one 
tent,  slightly  larger  than  the  others,  and  set  apart, 
probably  was  Lieutenant  Fremont's  tent.  The  camp 
was  thronging  with  whites  in  frontier  costume,  with 
Indians  and  dogs;  saddles  and  packs  were  stacked  in 
piles;  and  out  from  the  creek  bank,  in  a  grassy  place, 
were  grazing  horses  and  mules. 

From  the  camp  now  came  racing,  like  young  In 
dians,  upon  their  ponies,  two  boys,  as  if  eager  to  in 
spect.  One  was  younger  than  Oliver,  the  other  was 
older.  They,  also,  were  dressed  in  easy  but  rough 
plains  costume,  and  the  younger  even  wore  Cheyenne 
moccasins.  With  brief  "  Hello  "  they  fell  in  alongside 
the  leaders  of  the  column,  and  accompanied  it  while 
covertly  eyeing  its  make-up.  Oliver  assumed  his  best 
mountain-man  pose,  and  with  equal  sly  curiosity  eyed 
them  back. 

"  No,  my  men  will  mess  by  themselves,"  was  say 
ing  Kit  Carson,  to  Lieutenant  Fremont.  "  O'  course, 
thar  can  be  a  general  camp,  but  they'll  make  their  own 
way.  That'll  avoid  any  trouble." 

"  Very  well,"  answered  Lieutenant  Fremont. 
72 


FREMONT  SAYS  "  ONWARD  » 

"That's  understood,  then.     I  don't  feel  authorized 
to  enlist  them." 

To  the  camp  rode  on  the  Carson  squad ;  and  at  the 
lifted  hand  of  Kit,  as  signal,  they  were  off  saddle  at 
once,  to  unpack  and  make  another  camp — an  exten 
sion  of  first.  While  Oliver  was  busy,  a  voice  spoke 
to  him. 

"  Your  name's  Oliver,  Kit  says."  It  was  Lieu 
tenant  Fremont,  accosting  him  with  another  frank 
smile;  the  two  boys,  bridle-lines  upon  arms,  were  with 
him.  "  I  want  you  young  gentlemen  to  get  acquainted. 
Oliver,  this  is  Henry  Brant,  and  Randolph  Benton,  of 
St.  Louis.  They  came  out  by  the  North  Platte  trail, 
with  Kit's  party." 

Oliver  flushed,  as  he  shook  hands. 
•     "  Are  you  going  all  the  way  ?  "  asked  Randolph, 
eagerly.    He  was  the  younger  boy,  with  the  Cheyenne 
moccasins ;  his  age  was  about  twelve. 

"  I  don't  know.  We  go  as  far  as  Kit  goes,  I 
guess." 

"  That's  all  the  way,  then.  You  aren't  afraid  of 
Indians,  are  you?" 

"  Naw,"  grunted  Oliver,  disdainfully. 

"  We  aren't,  either,"  declared  the  older  boy,  Henry. 
He  was  about  nineteen.  And  he  continued,  gloomily: 
"  But  we  can't  go  on.  We've  got  to  stay  here  at  the 
fort,  Mr.  Fremont  says." 

"  A  Cheyenne  boy  gave  me  these  moccasins,"  in 
formed  Randolph,  proudly,  sticking  out  a  foot. 

73 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

'  Yes.  I  knew  'em  for  Cheyenne  moccasins,  soon 
as  I  saw  'em,"  answered  Oliver.  "  But  why  don't  you 
go  on?"  he  invited — liking  both  boys.  "Isn't  the 
party  going  on?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  we're  too  inexperienced,  Mr.  Fremont 
thinks.  And  he  doesn't  want  to  have  the  responsi 
bility  of  us,"  explained  Henry;  continuing,  gloomily 
as  before:  "  We'd  go,  if  he'd  let  us;  but  if  the  Indians 
are  bad  I  suppose  we  might  be  in  the  way,  and  I'd 
rather  stay  here  than  get  anybody  killed  looking  after 


us." 


"  So  would  I,"  agreed  Randolph,  quickly.  He  was 
the  livelier  of  the  two.  "  We  almost  had  a  fight,  com 
ing  out,  anyhow ;  only  they  turned  into  trappers  instead 
of  Indians." 

"  We'll  have  some  fun,  at  the  fort,  I  guess,"  said 
Henry,  more  hopefully.  "  But  you  finish  up  your 
work,  Oliver.  We'll  watch  you." 

"Well,"  admitted  Oliver.  "I'll  be  done  in  a 
minute." 

He  proceeded ;  his  two  friends  strolled  about,  keep 
ing  in  touch  with  him. 

The  Fremont  party  were  composed  all  of  St.  Louis 
French — the  majority  seasoned  voyageurs  and  trap 
pers  who  as  American  Fur  Company  men  had  before 
met  the  Carson  men  on  the  beaver  trail.  They  wore, 
some  buckskins,  but  the  greater  proportion  baggy  jean 
trousers  stuffed  into  high  moccasins  or  boots,  and 
belted  at  the  waist,  flannel  shirts  adjusted  outside  the 

74 


FREMONT  SAYS  "ONWARD" 

trousers,  like  blanket-coats  and  trimmed  in  red,  bright 
neckerchiefs,  and  handkerchief  turbans  or  the  wool 
hats.  A  cheery,  bustling,  dark- faced  and  dark-eyed 
crowd  they  were,  laughing  much  and  singing  much 
and  joking  much. 

"  Let's  go  down  to  the  fort,"  proposed  Randolph, 
at  once,  when  Oliver  turned  from  his  last  chore. 

But  the  sun  was  setting  behind  great  Laramie  Peak 
of  the  Black  Hills,  in  the  west ;  throughout  the  com 
bined  camps  fires  were  blazing;  and  Oliver,  keenly 
aware  of  time  and  place,  must  reply : 

"  No;  this  chile's  wolfish,  and  pots  are  on  the  fire. 
Meat,  first.  Then  I'll  go." 

"  You  eat  with  us,  at  our  mess,"  invited  Henry. 

"Yes.  You  can,  can't  you?"  urged  Randolph. 
"  Buffalo  meat,  and  coffee!  " 

"  I  suppose  you're  used  to  buffalo  meat,  though," 
hazarded  Henry,  as  they  moved  on. 

"  Yes.  That's  what  we  live  on,  mostly.  Don't 
have  much  coffee.  Didn't  bring  any,  this  trip." 

"  We  lost  nearly  all  of  ours — a  whole  bag  full,  in 
the  Kansas  River !  "  chirped  Randolph.  "  Almost  as 
soon  as  we'd  started.  Our  rubber  boat  tipped  over 
when  we  were  crossing,  and  Kit  Carson  and  Mr.  Max 
well  and  everybody  had  to  jump  into  the  river  and 
rescue  things.  Some  of  the  men  couldn't  swim,  either; 
but  they  didn't  care!  Kit  Carson  was  sick  two  days 
from  his  wetting." 

"  He's  often  been  in  rivers.     Trappers  wade  to 

75 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

their  waist  in  ice-water,  setting  traps  or  finding  'em," 
explained  Oliver. 

"  Are  you  a  trapper?  " 

"  I'm  learning,"  answered  Oliver,  cautiously.  And 
he  added,  with  pride :  "  I'm  a  Kit  Carson  man, 
though." 

"  Do  those  tacks  in  your  rifle  mean  scalps  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Did  you  take  them?" 

"  No ;  but  Kit  Carson  did,  before  he  gave  the  rifle 
to  me.  It  was  his  rifle." 

"  I'd  like  to  be  a  Kit  Carson  man,"  declared  Henry. 

"I'd  as  soon  be  a  Fremont  man,"  retorted  Ran 
dolph,  loyally. 

"  Well,  it  takes  pluck  to  follow  either  of  them,  I 
guess,"  admitted  Henry.  "  They're  both  brave.  You 
ought  to  have  seen  them  riding  after  buffalo!  Kit 
Carson's  horse  put  his  foot  in  a  hole  and  threw  him 
head  over  heels  and  ran  away  with  the  buffalo  till  Mr. 
Maxwell  caught  him ;  and  the  lieutenant's  horse  chased 
so  hard  and  got  so  excited  that  it  regularly  foamed  at 
the  mouth!  It's  a  trained  buffalo  horse;  name  is 
Proveau." 

They  squatted,  trapper  fashion,  guns  against  knees, 
near  a  fire  upon  which  a  pot  of  stew  bubbled  and 
steamed  attractively.  At  other  fires  men  were  toasting 
strips  of  meat  held  on  sticks. 

'  You  came  up  from  Taos,  didn't  you?"  asked 
Henry. 

76 


FREMONT  SAYS  "  ONWARD  " 


:(  Yes." 

"  We  came  clear  from  St.  Louis.  That's  about  as 
far/'  piped  Randolph.  "  But  I  came  from  Washing 
ton,  too.  We  left  Missouri — or  Mr.  Chouteau's  farm 
just  this  side,  the  tenth  of  June  and  we  got  here  July 
thirteenth.  We've  been  here  a  week." 

"  Did  you  have  any  scrimmages,  on  the  trail  ?  " 
queried  Oliver. 

"  Naw,"  said  Henry.  "  Once  we  thought  we  were 
going  to,  but  they  were  just  a  band  of  trappers  on  their 
way  back  to  Missouri.  We  had  some  fine  buffalo  hunts, 
though.  But  Lieutenant  Fremont  almost  got  into  a 
big  Indian  fight.  He  separated  from  us,  part  way; 
and  he  and  Mr.  Maxwell  and  a  couple  of  others  fol 
lowed  up  the  South  Branch  of  the  Platte  River  to  the 
mountains,  while  we  took  the  Oregon  Trail  route, 
up  the  North  Branch." 

"  Yes ;  and  about  three  hundred  Injuns  charged 
them,  and  there'd  have  been  shooting  if  Mr.  Maxwell 
hadn't  recognized  one  of  the  Injuns  and  shouted,  just 
in  time :  '  You  old  fool !  Don't  you  know  me  ?  '  Then 
they  all  shook  hands,  and  went  to  the  Indian  village. 
They  were  Arapahoe  Indians." 

"What's  this  expedition  for,  anyway?"  ventured 
Oliver. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  proffered  Randolph.  "I  know 
because  Lieutenant  Fremont  married  my  sister " 

"  And  his  father's  Senator  Benton  of  Missouri, 
too,"  further  explained  Henry.  "  We're  second 

77 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

cousins.     That's  why  we  were  taken  along,  I  guess." 

"  Well,  I've  heard  the  talk,  at  our  house  in  Wash 
ington,  anyway,"  resumed  Randolph,  interrupted. 
"  It's  claimed  to  be  an  army  expedition  sent  out  by 
the  Secretary  of  War  to  examine  the  country  between 
the  Missouri  frontiers  and  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and 
to  get  the  latitude  and  longitude  of  the  South  Pass; 
but  my  father  and  some  other  men  in  Congress  hope  it 
will  encourage  colonists  over  into  Oregon  by  describing 
the  way  to  get  there." 

"  Have  you  been  to  the  South  Pass  ?  "  asked  Henry, 
of  Oliver. 

"  No,  not  yet;  but  most  of  our  men  have.  That's 
the  big  pass  on  the  regular  trapper  and  trader  trail, 
over  the  Rockies  from  this  side  to  the  other  side. 
Everybody  knows  the  South  Pass." 

"  Wish  we  were  going  on,"  repeated  Henry,  wist 
fully.  "  But  I  guess  it's  mighty  serious  when  Kit 
Carson  makes  his  will." 

"Did  he?" 

'  Yes.  You  see,  our  party  met  a  party  under  Jim 
Bridger — you  know  Jim  Bridger,  another  trapper  cap 
tain?  (Oliver  nodded.)  And  they  all  said  the  country 
beyond  Laramie  isn't  safe,  because  the  Sioux  swear 
they'll  kill  every  white  man  they  find  there.  That 
scared  our  men  pretty  bad,  and  Kit  Carson  got 
alarmed,  too;  and  at  the  fort  he  made  his  will,  so 
that  in  case  he's  killed  his  little  girl  he  left  in  St.  Louis 
at  school  will  be  provided  for.  She's  half  Indian." 

78 


FREMONT  SAYS  "ONWARD" 

"  Well,  he'll  go  on,  though,  if  Fremont  goes  on," 
asserted  Oliver,  stoutly. 

"  Of  course.  That's  why  he  made  his  will.  He's 
sensible.  It  isn't  because  he's  afraid." 

When  supper  was  practically  over  with,  and  the 
men  had  lighted  their  pipes  for  a  few  minutes  preced 
ing  night  chores,  a  figure  stepped  into  the  midst  of  the 
lounging  groups  and  lifted  his  arm,  for  attention.  It 
was  a  slender,  quick  figure — that  of  Lieutenant 
Fremont. 

"  Men,"  he  addressed,  clearly,  "  to-morrow  we 
break  camp,  for  the  outward  trail  again.  We're  well 
armed,  we  know  how  to  take  care  of  ourselves,  in  a 
fight,  and  Mr.  Bissonette,  head  agent  at  Fort  Platte, 
has  agreed  to  go  with  us,  as  far  as  we  need  him,  as 
interpreter.  He  is  a  friend  of  the  Sioux  and  Black- 
feet,  and  can  talk  with  them  if  we  meet  them.  But  as 
to  these  threats  by  the  Indians  and  these  rumors  of 
danger,  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  how  much  they  can 
be  relied  upon.  You've  all  been  in  the  Indian  country 
before;  you  can't  expect  to  travel  in  it  and  not  risk  a 
fight  or  two.  In  fact,  you  knew  it  before  we  left 
St.  Louis.  You  knew  there  that  the  Sioux  and  Black- 
feet  were  unsettled,  in  the  Laramie  region.  I'm  going 
on,  right  on,  ready  for  peace  or  war.  I  don't  see  any 
good  and  sufficient  reason  why  any  of  you  should 
break  your  engagement  with  the  government  and  me; 
but  I  don't  want  anybody  in  my  party  who  feels  afraid 
or  repents  of  his  bargain.  Let  him  step  forward  at 

79 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

once,  and  I'll  release  him  with  his  discharge  and  his 
pay  up  to  date." 

There  was  an  instant  of  silence,  broken  by  a  laugh- 
as  one  man  arose,  and  defiantly  stood. 

"  You  wish  to  stay,  do  you?  "  demanded  Lieuten 
ant  Fremont. 

The  man  nodded. 

"  Are  you  sick,  perhaps  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Tired,  then." 

"  Yes." 

"  You  did  not  know  that  the  South  Pass  was  be 
yond  Fort  John,  I  presume !  "  pursued  the  lieutenant, 
sarcastically — creating  another  laugh. 

The  man  maintained  sulky  silence,  hanging  his 
head. 

"  Well,  my  poor  fellow,  we  are  very  sorry  for 
you,"  continued  the  officer.  "  You  are  welcome  to 
your  pay  and  discharge,  and  you  can  be  making  garden 
at  the  post  so  as  to  have  nice  vegetables  ready  for  us 
when  we  come  back !  "  Thus  having  ridiculed  him,  the 
lieutenant  asked,  generally :  "  Is  there  anybody  else 
who  is  tired  in  heart  or  feet  ?  " 

None  answered — for  which  Oliver  was  glad. 

"  Humph !  "  criticised  Randolph,  as  the  three  boys 
trudged  off  to  visit  the  post.  "  Wish  now  they'd  take 
us  instead.  But  they  won't.  I've  got  to  stay  and  wind 
the  old  chronometers  every  day !  " 

The  next  morning  Oliver  (accompanied  by  the  en- 

80 


FREMONT  SAYS  "  ONWARD  " 

vious  and  disconsolate  Henry  and  Randolph)  was  pay 
ing  another  visit  to  the  fort.  Lieutenant  Fremont, 
and  Kit  Carson  and  Lucien  Maxwell  and  several  of  the 
French  trappers  in  the  Fremont  company  had  entered 
the  office  of  Mr.  Boudeau,  the  agent,  as  if  to  say 
good-by;  when  through  the  gate  and  across  the  court, 
for  the  office,  stalked,  with  great  dignity,  half  a  dozen 
Sioux — all  chiefs.  They  were  finely  built  men,  sev 
eral  of  them  old. 

A  clerk  at  the  door  of  the  office  would  wave  them 
away;  but  they  acted  as  if  they  did  not  see  him,  and 
past  him  they  shouldered,  and  on  in. 

"  Come  on !  "  whispered  Randolph,  to  his  com 
rades.  "  There's  something  up.  They're  from  Fort 
Platte,  at  the  Platte  River  a  mile  below.  I've  seen 
'em  there." 

So,  the  way  apparently  being  open,  in  after  the 
Indians  sidled  the  boys. 

Lieutenant  Fremont  was  just  opening  a  folded 
note,  evidently  brought  by  the  Indians.  They  had 
seated  themselves  upon  the  floor,  along  the  wall,  and 
were  waiting  for  the  result.  The  white  men  were 
eyeing  the  missive  anxiously,  and  waiting  also. 

"  This  is  a  note  from  Mr.  Bissonette  at  Fort 
Platte,"  announced  Lieutenant  Fremont ;  "  as  follows," 
and  he  read,  in  French.  Then  he  continued :  "  In  case 
some  of  us  may  not  have  understood  it  all,  I'll  trans 
late."  And  again  he  read — flushing  more  as  he  pro 
ceeded  : 

6  81 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  FORT  PLATTE,  July  i,  1842. 

"Mr.  Fremont:  The  chiefs  in  council  have  just 
told  me  to  warn  you  not  to  set  out  before  the  party  of 
young  men  which  is  out  shall  have  returned.  Moreover, 
they  tell  me  that  they  are  very  certain  that  they  (the 
young  men)  will  fire  upon  you  at  the  first  meeting. 
They  ought  to  be  back  in  seven  to  eight  days.  Pardon 
me  for  thus  addressing  you,  but  it  seems  to  me  that 
I  should  warn  you  of  the  danger.  Furthermore,  the 
chiefs  who  forbid  you  to  set  forth  before  the  return  of 
the  warriors  are  the  bearers  of  this  note. 

"  I  am  your  obedient  servant, 

"  JOSEPH    BISSONETTE, 
"by  L.  B.  CHARTRAIN. 

"The  names  of  some  of  the  chiefs— The  Otter 
Hat,  the  Breaker  of  Arrows,  the  Black  Night,  the 
Bull's  Tail." 

As  the  lieutenant  finished,  one  of  the  seated  chiefs 
arose,  and  dropping  his  blanket,  as  signal  that  he  was 
about  to  speak,  in  guttural  tone,  with  now  and  then 
a  gesture,  delivered  a  short  harangue.  Mr.  Boudeau, 
the  American  Fur  Company  agent  in  charge  of  the 
post,  translated  sentence  by  sentence. 

"  You  have  come  among  us  at  a  bad  time,"  said  the 
chief.  "  Some  of  our  people  have  been  killed,  and 
our  young  men  who  have  gone  to  the  mountains  are 
eager  to  avenge  the  blood  of  their  relations,  which  has 
been  shed  by  the  whites.  Our  young  men  are  bad,  and 
if  they  meet  you,  they  will  believe  that  you  are  carry 
ing  goods  and  ammunition  to  their  enemies,  and  will 
fire  upon  you.  You  have  told  us  that  this  will  make 

82 


FREMONT  SAYS  "ONWARD" 

war.  We  know  that  our  great  father  has  many  sol 
diers  and  big  guns,  and  we  are  anxious  to  keep  our 
lives.  We  love  the  whites,  and  are  desirous  of  peace. 
Thinking  all  these  things,  we  have  decided  to  keep  you 
here  until  our  warriors  return.  We  are  glad  to  see 
you  among  us.  Our  father  is  rich  and  we  expected 
that  you  would  have  brought  us  presents  from  him — 
horses  and  guns  and  blankets.  But  we  are  glad  to  see 
you,  anyway.  We  look  upon  your  coming  as  the  light 
that  goes  before  the  sun;  for  you  will  tell  our  great 
father  that  you  have  seen  us,  and  how  we  are  naked 
and  poor  and  have  nothing  to  eat,  and  he  will  send  us 
all  these  things." 

The  chief  sat  down,  and  enveloped  himself  in  his 
red  blanket.  Another  chief,  doffing  his  blanket  (which 
was  blue  trimmed  with  red),  standing  also  spoke.  He 
said,  like  the  first,  that  they  loved  the  whites  very  much, 
and  could  not  bear  to  have  them  injured  when  they 
came  as  friends,  and  that  it  was  better  for  them  to 
stay  safely  at  the  post  and  not  go  on.  Then  the  great 
father  at  Washington  would  be  grateful  and  would 
give  his  red  children  many  blankets  and  horses  and 
much  food  and  powder  and  lead ! 

Other  chiefs  spoke,  in  turn — and  all  blandly  ex 
pressed  the  hope  that  in  reward  for  their  tender  care 
of  the  expedition  in  forbidding  it  to  proceed,  the  "  great 
father  "  at  Washington  would  liberally  reward  them ! 

When  the  half  circle  of  chiefs  had  said  their  say, 

83 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Lieutenant  Fremont  replied — Agent  Boudeau  trans 
lating  his  sentences  into  Sioux. 

"  We  thank  you  for  your  good  words/'  replied  the 
lieutenant,  to  their  up-turned  solemn  visages.  "  We 
know  that  you  do  not  wish  us  to  be  harmed,  and  it  will 
please  the  great  father  at  Washington  to  hear  about 
it.  We  should  like  to  stay  with  you  a  long  time,  but 
the  trail  is  waiting,  we  have  not  come  to  the  end  of  it. 
We  hope  that  your  young  men  will  not  take  us  as  ene 
mies.  That  would  be  a  great  pity,  when  we  come  as 
friends.  But  in  case  that  your  young  men  might  not 
see  plainly,  and  blood  would  be  shed,  and  perhaps  many 
of  them  killed,  we  ask  that  two  or  three  of  you  go  with 
us,  to  signal  the  young  men  and  tell  them  that  we  are 
friends.  We  ask  that  you  go  with  us,  as  our  guests,  to 
spread  your  robes  in  my  lodge  and  eat  at  my  fire; 
and  when  we  return  safely  I  will  give  presents/' 

The  chief  in  the  red  blanket  arose. 

"  We  have  heard  the  speech  of  the  white  chief, 
and  it  is  good,"  he  said.  "  But  we  are  old  and  poor 
and  tired,  and  we  cannot  travel  far  on  horseback. 
We  must  sit  in  our  lodges  and  smoke  our  pipes  among 
the  women,  and  let  our  young  warriors  take  the  trail. 
Besides,  we  have  no  power  now  over  the  young  men, 
and  it  would  be  bad  for  us  if  we  tried  to  interfere  on 
the  war-path." 

He  seated  himself,  and  was  applauded  by  a  chorus 
of  grunts  from  his  comrades. 

Lieutenant  Fremont  answered,  instantly  and  ener- 
84 


FREMONT  SAYS  "ONWARD" 

getically — with  a  glance  at  Kit  Carson  as  if  to  read 
approval  in  his  sober  face. 

"  You  say  that  you  love  the  whites ;  why  have  you 
killed  so  many  already  this  spring?  You  say  you  love 
the  whites,  and  you  are  full  of  words  about  friendship ; 
but  you  are  unwilling  to  undergo  the  fatigue  of  a  few 
days'  ride  to  save  our  lives !  We  do  not  believe  what 
you  have  said;  we  will  listen  to  you  no  more.  What 
ever  a  chief  among  us  tells  his  soldiers  to  do,  is  done. 
We  obey  our  chiefs.  We  are  soldiers  of  the  great 
chief  your  father.  He  has  told  us  to  come  out  here, 
and  see  this  country  and  all  the  Indians,  his  children. 
Why  should  we  not  go  on  and  do  it  ?  Before  we  came, 
we  heard  that  you  had  killed  his  people  and  wanted 
to  be  his  children  no  longer;  but  we  came  anyway, 
holding  out  our  hands  in  peace.  Now  we  find  that 
the  stories  we  heard  are  not  lies,  and  that  your  young 
men  are  on  the  war-path  and  you  are  no  more  his 
friends  and  children.  But  we  have  thrown  away  our 
bodies,  and  will  not  turn  back.  When  you  told  us 
that  your  young  men  would  kill  us,  you  did  not  know 
that  our  hearts  were  strong,  and  you  did  not  count  the 
rifles  that  my  young  men  carry  in  their  hands.  We 
may  be  few,  and  you  are  many,  in  numbers,  and  you 
may  think  to  kill  us ;  but  if  you  try  there  will  be  much 
crying  of  women  in  your  villages,  for  many  of  your 
young  men  will  stay  behind  and  forget  to  return  with 
the  others  from  the  mountains.  Do  you  think  that 
our  great  chief  will  let  his  soldiers  die,  and  will  not 

85 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

cover  their  graves?  Before  the  snows  melt  again  his 
warriors  will  have  swept  away  your  villages  as  the 
fires  in  autumn  sweep  the  prairies.  Look  around. 
See!  I  have  pulled  down  my  white  lodges  and  my 
people  are  ready :  when  the  sun  is  ten  paces  higher,  we 
shall  be  on  the  march.  If  you  have  anything  new 
to  tell  us,  you  should  say  it  soon.  I  am  done." 

With  that  the  lieutenant  turned  his  back,  and 
strode  out;  after  him  strode  Kit  Carson  and  Lucien 
Maxwell  and  all,  even  the  agent,  with  the  three  boys 
forming  the  rear.  Presently,  at  decent  interval,  filed 
forth  the  chiefs,  blanket  shrouded;  they  crossed  the 
court  and  passed  through  the  gate,  for  the  lodges 
without. 

"  That  was  a  good  speech,  wasn't  it !  "  praised  Ran 
dolph.  "  And  he  means  what  he  says,  too." 

"  Guess  you  start  right  away,"  said  Henry ;  for 
Lieutenant  Fremont  had  immediately  mounted  his 
horse,  at  the  post  gate,  and  was  dashing  for  the  camp, 
followed  by  the  other  men.  So,  hastily  vaulting  into 
their  own  saddles,  with  a  whoop  the  three  boys,  abreast, 
raced  after. 


VI 
INTO  THE  WILDER  WEST 


OLIVER  secretly  was  pleased  to  see  that  Kit  Carson, 
scouring  the  plain  like  a  centaur,  soon  overtook  the 
lieutenant.  No  rider  could  beat  Kit.  However,  neck 
and  neck  they  galloped  into  the  camp,  and  simultane 
ously  checked  their  horses  short. 

"  All  right.  En  avant !  "  cried  Fremont,  his  voice 
ringing  keenly.  And  Kit  Carson  shouted  to  his  own 
squad :  "  Ketch  up,  boys !  " 

The  mules  and  carts  were  packed  and  waiting ;  now 
into  their  saddles  clambered  the  men.  Fremont  and 
Carson  and  Maxwell  and  others  proceeded  to  shake 
hands  with  Agent  Boudeau;  gay  salutations  of  parting 
were  exchanged. 

"  We'll  ride  a  little  way  with  you,  but  we  can't 
go  far,  I  suppose,"  vouchsafed  Henry,  to  Oliver. 

"  We'll  be  here  when  you  come  back,  though.  You 
can  tell  us  all  about  it,"  proposed  Randolph,  hopefully. 
"  You'll  see  Independence  Rock  and  Devil's  Gate  and 
South  Pass  and  Wind  River  Mountains  and  every 
thing!" 

But  they  were  interrupted,  for  just  as  amidst  a 
jostling  and  confusion  of  orders  addressed  to  pack 

87 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

animals  and  mule  teams  the  company  were  forming 
upon  the  march,  came  galloping  from  the  direction 
of  the  post  one  of  the  Sioux  chiefs. 

"Thar's  Bull's  Tail,"  grumbled  Lieutenant  Ike. 
"  Wants  to  say  something." 

"  The  chief  says  that  they  are  sorry  to  see  you 
go  in  anger,"  translated  Agent  Boudeau  to  Lieutenant 
Fremont.  "  It  makes  their  hearts  sad  to  think  that  you 
are  likely  to  run  into  danger.  So  they  have  found 
a  young  man  who  will  join  you  this  evening  and  try 
to  keep  you  safe.  But  he  is  very  poor;  he  has  no 
horse,  and  he  expects  you  to  give  him  one." 

"  That  is  good.  Tell  him  to  send  the  young  man. 
We  will  camp  about  fifteen  miles  from  here,  near 
where  the  river  Platte  issues  from  the  red  rocks." 

The  chief  grunted  acknowledgment  and  loped 
back  to  the  post,  probably  on  his  way  to  Fort  Platte 
below,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Laramie. 

Once  again  the  company  were  set  in  motion;  they 
strung  out  into  a  long  procession,  Fremont  and  Kit 
Carson  leading;  the  Fremont  party  following,  and  the 
Carson  party  as  the  second  division.  The  Fremont 
party  had  eight  stout  two-wheeled  covered  carts,  for 
the  provisions  and  tents  and  scientific  instruments. 
These  carts  creaked;  the  drivers  cracked  whips  above 
the  two-mule  teams;  the  happy-go-lucky  Frenchmen 
laughed  and  sung  and  chattered;  but  the  men  from 
Taos  rode  more  gravely. 

Now  at  a  turn  of  the  trail,  where  it  entered  the 


INTO  THE  WILDER  WEST 

hills,  only  a  few  minutes'  ride  from  the  post,  must 
Henry  and  Randolph  reluctantly  halt,  and  let  the  train 
continue  without  them.  They  waved  hand  at  the  men ; 
and  with  answering  wave  from  Lieutenant  Fremont 
and  Kit  Carson  and  Oliver,  and  voyageurs  and  trap 
pers  all,  the  cavalcade  passed  on.  Glancing  back, 
Oliver  noted  that  the  hill  defile  had  at  once  closed, 
shutting  off  view  of  Fort  Laramie.  The  expedition 
was  fairly  started  for  the  South  Pass,  280  miles  west 
ward,  at  the  source  of  the  Sweetwater  River.  This 
was  the  great  pass  by  which  trappers  and  fur  traders 
crossed  the  Rocky  Mountains  from  the  east  or  the 
American  side  to  the  west  side  shared  by  the  United 
States  and  Great  Britain;  it  was  the  pass  to  Oregon. 

The  trail,  plainly  wheel-marked  by  the  party  of 
the  first  Oregon  emigrants  which  had  travelled  through 
only  three  weeks  before,  traversed  a  wide,  rolling  sagy 
plateau  which  occupied  much  of  the  space  between  the 
valley  of  the  Laramie  Creek,  south,  and  of  the  North 
Platte  River,  north.  About  ten  miles  from  the  post 
a  shallow,  dry  creek-bed  was  entered. 

Down  the  creek-bed,  which  now  ran  with  a  little 
current  of  clear  warm  water,  continued  the  procession, 
and  unexpectedly  to  Oliver  they  all  emerged  at  a  rap 
idly  flowing  river. 

"  North  Platte/'  announced  Trapper  New,  non 
chalantly.  "  Yep;  an'  a  heap  beaver  stream,  wagh!  " 

The  leaders  had  halted ;  the  Fremont  party  already 
were  unharnessing  and  unsaddling;  so  evidently  this 

89 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

was  the  camping-place  for  the  night.  The  upper  end 
of  the  valley  was  closed  by  cliffs  of  scarlet,  peeping 
over  a  little  swell  that  intervened. 

"  I've  seen  time  when  this  hyar  valley  war  full  o' 
buff'ler  an'  elk  an'  deer,"  remarked  Trapper  New,  as 
the  Carson  squad  good-naturedly  hustled  to  beat  the 
larger  party  in  making  camp.  "  But  when  Injuns  air 
out,  game  gets  scarce.  We're  going  to  have  a  lean 
trail,  I  reckon." 

At  this  moment  a  ripple  of  laughter  flowed  through 
the  party.  Oliver  followed  the  glances,  and  saw  that 
the  Fremont  party  were  trying  to  erect  a  large  tent; 
rather,  a  buffalo-hide  lodge  which  they  must  have 
procured  from  the  Indians  at  Fort  Laramie.  It  was 
some  twenty  feet  high,  to  the  peak,  and  eighteen  feet 
across,  at  the  base,  and  was  to  be  stretched  like  a 
cone  over  a  framework  of  lodge-poles  set  in  a  circle 
and  slanted  to  meet  at  a  point.  Almost  the  whole 
party,  including  the  lieutenant  and  Kit  Carson,  were 
working  at  it.  But  twice  it  had  toppled  and  fallen, 
burying  the  workers  under  its  folds. 

"  Now,  Kit  knows,"  complained  Ike  Chamberlain. 
"  He's  seen  many  a  lodge  put  up.  But  hyar  comes 
somebody  who  knows  better,  I  reckon.  You  watch. 
It's  squaw  work,  anyhow;  not  man  work." 

Into  the  camp  had  ridden  Agent  Bissonette,  from 
Fort  Platte,  with  two  Indians — man  and  wife.  The 
woman,  grinning  broadly,  at  once  trudged  to  the 
struggling  group,  and  by  gestures  and  short  exclama- 

90 


INTO  THE  WILDER  WEST 

tions,  and  by  applying  deftly  her  own  strength,  soon 
had  the  skin  tent  stretched  and  stationary. 

Flushed  and  apologetic,  Kit  Carson  strolled  to  his 
squad. 

"  That's  harder  than  I  thought,"  he  said.  "  I've 
seen  a  thousand  lodges  raised  an'  struck,  but  I  never 
touched  one  before.  Thar  always  were  squaws  to 
do  it" 

"  Camp  hyar,  do  we,  for  the  night  ?  "  commented 
Lieutenant  Ike. 

"  Yes.  Fremont  wants  to  ride  over  an'  inspect  the 
canyon  mouth  yon,  whar  he's  coming  down  in  his  rub 
ber  boat,  on  our  way  back." 

"He  air,  air  he!  "  grunted  Ike.  "  Humph!  Old 
White  Head  tried  that  once,  didn't  he — 'fore  his  ha'r 
turned." 

By  "  White  Head  "  Oliver  knew  that  Thomas  Fitz- 
patrick,  a  noted  trapper  captain,  was  meant. 

"Wall,  he  knows  that  Fitz  lost  all  his  furs  an' 
nigh  lost  his  life,  voyaging  into  those  canyons;  but  he's 
bound  to  find  out  for  himself,  an'  I  guess  he  will." 

The  canyon  mouth  was  located  at  the  red  cliffs,  up 
the  valley  about  three  miles ;  and  as  the  sun  had  not  set, 
and  as  there  was  nothing  especial  to  do,  a  little  bunch 
of  the  men  from  the  two  commands  rode  over.  Oliver 
saw  that  here  at  the  red  cliffs  the  Platte  came  tumbling 
out  of  the  mountain  country.  High  upon  either  hand 
rose  the  scarlet  walls,  about  one  hundred  yards  apart, 
their  shelves  dotted  with  a  few  pines,  their  tops  bear- 

91 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

ing  a  fringe  of  the  same  dark-green.  The  river  roared 
loudly,  as  it  boiled  down.  Many  rocks  stuck  up 
through  the  current. 

"  It's  wuss  above,"  quoth  William  New,  when  they 
all  emerged,  and  rode  away.  "  'Tain't  any  place  for 
human  being  to  travel  in.  Thar's  one  place  called 
Fiery  Narrows — wagh !  " 

"Ah,  who  fears?"  laughed  Descoteaux,  French 
man,  of  the  Fremont  party.  "  Where  Monsieur  Fre 
mont  go,  I  go." 

"  I,  too/'  announced  Clement  Lambert,  his 
comrade. 

Fremont  himself,  with  Basil  Lejeunesse,  his  trusted 
adjutant,  surveyed  the  place,  the  next  morning;  and 
when  they  rode  back  it  was  rumored  that  the  lieutenant 
was  more  determined  than  ever  to  launch  his  boat,  on 
the  return  from  the  South  Pass. 

As  the  company  continued  to  advance,  the  next  day, 
the  country  grew  drier.  Grasshoppers  jumped  in 
clouds  from  beneath  hoof  and  wheel ;  so  that  William 
New,  with  whom  Oliver  rode,  shook  his  head. 

"  Signs  air  bad,"  he  mumbled.  "  When  hoppers  air 
many,  grass  air  few." 

No  Indians  had  yet  been  sighted;  but  early  in  the 
afternoon  a  sudden  commotion  swept  the  line,  as  from 
scouting  service  in  the  advance  back  galloped  four 
Fremont  men. 

"  Aux  armes !  "  they  shouted.  "  To  arms !  They 
come — the  savages !  " 


INTO  THE  WILDER  WEST 

Around  whirled  their  horses  Kit  Carson  and  Fre 
mont,  and  while  the  lieutenant  and  Lucien  Maxwell 
and  Basil  Lajeunesse  urgently  strove  with  the  van, 
Kit  Carson  sped  recklessly  adown  the  line  to  the  rear. 

"To  the  river,  boys!"  he  shouted.  "We'll  fort 
thar,  an'  let  'em  come!  Quick,  now!  " 

How  the  men  jumped  to  his  clear  tones !  The  river 
was  near,  on  the  right;  its  hither  bank  was  high  and 
steep;  pack  animals  and  mule  teams  were  forced  into 
trot  and  lope;  the  packs  swayed  and  jolted,  the  carts 
jolted  and  swayed;  loud  rose  the  cries  of  the  drivers. 
Just  as  on  the  Santa  Fe  Trail,  in  the  attack  by  the 
Kiowas,  now  here  upon  the  edge  of  the  river,  under 
the  steep  bank  the  carts  were  instantly  wheeled  into 
a  semi-circle,  enclosing  the  horses  and  mules.  Over 
the  bank  peered  the  defenders,  rifle  muzzles  forward, 
Oliver  ready  with  his  tack-studded  gift  from  Kit. 

"  Bang!  Whang!  "  sounded  the  reports  as  several 
of  the  Fremont  men  fired  their  guns,  to  be  certain  of 
their  condition. 

Mr.  Bissonette  and  the  Indian  who  was  to  protect 
the  march  from  attack  by  his  people  had  not  "  forted  " 
with  the  column ;  they  had  at  once  ridden  on,  to  meet 
the  enemy,  and  to  explain.  Now  here  they  came,  back, 
with  two  new  Indians. 

"  Wagh !    Sioux !  "  grunted  the  men  around  Oliver. 

Kit  Carson,  Lieutenant  Fremont,  Lucien  Max 
well  and  Basil  Lajeunesse  stepped  out  and  received  the 
approaching  four. 

93 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

A  brief  conference  was  held  only  a  dozen  yards 
beyond  the  bank  rampart.  The  twain  Sioux  were 
painted  and  half  naked  (save  for  the  paint  on  their 
chests)  ;  they  seemed  sullen  and  unresponsive,  and 
spoke  with  few  words  and  many  sign-gestures.  Mr. 
Bissonette  eked  out  their  tale,  and  in  the  fort  Trapper 
New  kept  pace  for  the  benefit  of  Oliver  and  the  others. 

"  Been  on  war  path,  up  Sweetwater ;  looking  for 
scalps — need  scalps  to  make  their  dead  warriors  happy 
by  a  dance,  an'  to  dry  up  the  tears  o'  the  women 
(wagh!);  too  many  white  people  in  their  country; 
overtook  party  o'  whites  (emigrants,  I  reckon)  at 
Indypendence  Rock  on  Sweetwater;  Broken  Hand 
(Oliver  knew  that  this  meant  Thomas  Fitzpatrick 
again)  war  leading  party;  half  o'  Sioux  wanted  to 
attack,  half  didn't;  these  two  war  in  half  that  did 
want  to " 

"  Give  it  to  'em,  boys !  " 

"Feed 'em  Galena  pills !" 

"Lift  their  ha'r!" 

"Tirez!    Tirez!  (Fire!  Shoot!)" 

"  Des  coups  de  baguettes  pour  les  scoundrels ! 
'(Shots  for  the  scoundrels!)" 

Thus  rose  the  indignant  cries,  at  the  announcement. 
But  Fremont  turned  and  raised  his  hand  command- 
ingly ;  and  the  cries  died  to  a  mutter. 

"  They  war  in  the  half  that  did  want  to,"  continued 
Trapper  New.  "  Finally,  the  war  party  busted,  seeing 
they  couldn't  agree,  an'  have  scattered.  Most  went 

94 


INTO  THE  WILDER  WEST 

over  into  Crow  country,  north,  after  Crow  scalps  an* 
hosses ;  rest  air  travelling  back  down  the  Platte.  Thar's 
no  grass  an'  no  bufFler." 

Lieutenant  Fremont  and  the  others  were  conduct 
ing  the  two  Sioux  around  the  bank  and  into  the  little 
fort.  Still  sullen,  the  visitors  were  permitted  to  gaze 
about,  and  see  how  angry  and  well-armed  were  this 
white  company.  Then  they  were  given  a  present  of 
tobacco  and  told  to  go. 

"  Wall,"  remarked  the  quiet  voice  of  Kit  Carson, 
as,  among  his  men,  for  a  moment  he  reflectively 
watched  the  two  Sioux  ride  off  as  if  glad  to  escape, 
"  I've  fought  Injuns  an'  they've  fought  me,  in  moun 
tains  an'  on  plains,  for  over  fifteen  year,  now — but 
sometimes  I  don't  blame  'em.  'Tain't  natural  for  'em 
to  sit  by  an'  let  their  country  be  occupied  by  whites — 
their  country  that  they've  owned.  An'  that's  what  it 
means — this  settler  travel  to  Oregon:  it  means  white 
people  on  both  sides  the  mountains.  Beaver  air 
thinned,  bufFler  air  getting  scarce,  an'  some  day  thar 
won't  be  any  room  for  the  Injun.  An'  they  suspect  it. 
Pore  critters ! " 


VII 
OVER  THE  FAMED  SOUTH  PASS 


"  THE  best  advice  that  I  can  give  you  is  to  turn 
back  at  once,"  declared  Mr.  Bissonette,  flatly,  to  Lieu 
tenant  Fremont. 

'Twas  near  noon  of  the  fifth  day  after  the  ad 
venture  with  the  first  of  the  Indians.  Other  Indians, 
mainly  Sioux,  had  been  met,  in  small  parties,  as  the 
Fremont  company  had  travelled  on  up  the  Platte.  This 
morning  the  trail  finally  had  intercepted  the  road  to 
Oregon,  which  here  crossed  the  river,  and  four  miles 
beyond  more  Indians  were  met.  The  obliging  Mr. 
Bissonette  had  come  far  enough ;  by  the  Oregon  Trail 
he  was  going  back  to  Fort  Platte  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Laramie  Creek,  but  he  lingered  to  have  an  interview 
with  these  latest  of  the  Sioux. 

"  They  say  that  the  country  ahead  is  very  bad," 
he  reported.  "  Their  main  village  has  made  a  wide 
detour  from  the  river  to  the  south,  looking  for  game. 
There  are  no  buffalo  in  this  whole  region,  because  on 
account  of  the  drought  and  the  grasshoppers  there  is 
no  grass.  The  trail  of  the  village  is  marked  by  lodges 
thrown  away  in  flight,  and  by  the  skeletons  of  the 
horses  that  the  people  must  eat  for  food,  or  that  have 

96 


OVER  THE  FAMED  SOUTH  PASS 

starved  to  death.  The  best  advice  that  I  can  give  you, 
is  to  turn  back  at  once." 

"  No,  sir;  I  am  under  instructions  to  go  on  to  the 
South  Pass,  and  on  I  go,"  replied  Lieutenant  Fremont, 
loudly  enough  for  all  the  men  to  hear.  "  But  if  any 
body  wishes  to  turn  back  with  you,  now  that  there  is 
the  opportunity,  he  has  my  permission." 

Ensued  a  moment  of  expectancy,  as  man  looked 
upon  man ;  no  one  made  the  move  or  said  the  word. 

"  Ma  foi!  (My  goodness!)"  exclaimed  Basil  La- 
jeunesse,  breaking  the  spell.  "We'll  eat  the  mules!  " 

At  this  they  all  laughed.  Mr.  Bissonette  shook 
hands  around,  and  so  did  the  Indian  whom  the  chiefs 
bad  sent  along ;  and  they  rode  away,  down  the  Oregon 
road,  for  the  post — the  Indian  with  his  squaw  and  his 
horse-present. 

'Henceforth  Kit  Carson  was  to  be  the  guide,  for  he 
knew  the  country  from  the  Platte  up  the  Sweetwater. 

Ere  proceeding,  first  they  must  get  rid  of  their 
cumbersome  baggage  and  their  carts,  so  as  to  be  able 
to  travel  light  and  fast.  The  Kit  Carson  party  already 
were  travelling  light,  trapper  style ;  but  for  plains  work 
the  Fremont  party  had  their  carts  and  the  several 
tents.  However,  here,  after  the  discouraging  report, 
through  Mr.  Bissonette,  from  the  Sioux,  all  turned 
to  and  made  a  cache  or  hiding  place  for  the  discarded 
stuff. 

The  carts  were  taken  apart — hoods  and  frames  and 
wheels — and  these  pieces  were  stowed  out  of  sight 

7  97 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

among  thick  willows  growing  near.  A  hole  ten  feet 
square  and  six  feet  deep  was  dug  in  a  sandy  opening 
in  the  midst  of  the  same  willows,  and  lined  with  brush, 
and  tarpaulins;  and  in  this  were  stowed  the  other 
things  not  absolutely  necessary.  They  were  covered 
with  an  old  buffalo  robe;  the  sand  was  thrown  in, 
the  top  was  levelled  and  any  suspicious  "  sign " 
smoothed  away  or  disfigured;  and  with  pack-mules 
laden  the  company  were  prepared  for  the  long  hard 
trail  awaiting. 

"  Wagh !  "  grunted  William  New.  "  Hyar's  whar 
we  shine.  Now  for  Indypendence  Rock  an'  the  Sweet- 
water  an'  the  Pass  over.  We  got  a  guide  who  air  up 
to  trap.  That  agent  purty  nigh  lost  us,  but  you  can't 
lose  Kit  Carson." 

"  How  far  to  the  Pass  ?  "  queried  Oliver. 

"  Wall,  by  regular  trail  it's  'bout  fifty  miles  to  the 
Rock,  an'  then  a  hundred  to  the  Pass.  But  we  aren't 
going  by  regular  trail;  see?  We're  travelling  on  up 
the  Platte,  an'  it  turns  southward,  for  the  Bull  Pen  or 
what  they  call  New  Park;  whilst  the  regular  Ore 
gon  an'  trapper  trail  cuts  the  curves,  on  other  side, 
lining  for  the  Sweetwater.  It's  the  Sweetwater  that 
flows  down  from  the  Pass  an'  j'ines  the  Platte  below  at 
head  o'  those  red  canyons  we  saw." 

The  stories  by  the  Indians  seemed  not  true;  for 
when  the  next  day  the  march  was  resumed  buffalo 
were  sighted.  Some  would  have  been  killed  had  not 
Clement  Lambert's  horse,  just  as  Clement  was  closing 


OVER  THE  FAMED  SOUTH  PASS 

in  on  the  tail  of  the  fleeing  herd,  plunged  headlong  into 
a  sudden  ravine;  while  Clement  was  climbing  out,  the 
buffalo,  tails  high,  scrambled  like  goats  up  a  precipice 
ridge,  and  escaped. 

Nevertheless,  the  camp  that  night  was  supplied 
with  jerked  or  dried  buffalo  meat  from  a  previous  hunt, 
and  found  plenty  of  grass. 

Fremont  had  named  the  camp,  several  nights  back, 
where  the  buffalo  meat  had  been  obtained,  Dried  Meat 
Camp.  Yesterday's  camp  was  of  course  Cache  Camp; 
on  this  all  agreed.  This  afternoon's  camp  was  pitched 
near  a  mud  bank  studded  with  large  pebbles  worn  oval ; 
therefore  William  New  dubbed  it  Goose-Egg  Camp ! 

Now  according  to  Lieutenant  Fremont's  compass 
the  Platte  was  inclining  more  and  more  to  the  south; 
and  it  was  rumored  among  the  men  that  unless  they 
crossed  pretty  soon  to  the  Sweet  water,  so  as  to  strike 
it  above  its  juncture  with  the  Platte,  they  would  be 
entangled  among  precipices.  The  country  was  beauti 
fully  red,  with  brown  and  pink  sandstone  and  "  pud 
ding-stone"  (as  the  pebbly  formation  was  termed), 
and  even  the  soil  was  red ;  a  curious  landscape  flowed 
through  by  the  greenish  river.  But  twelve  miles  from 
Goose- Egg  Camp  Kit  Carson,  riding  ahead  with  Lieu 
tenant  Fremont,  halted.  So  halted  the  column. 

"  Injun  sign,"  announced  Ike  Chamberlain,  for  the 
way  was  crossed  by  a  trail  of  an  Indian  village  which, 
here  camping,  had  left  lodge-poles  and  horse  skeletons. 

But  not  for  "  Injun  sign  "  had  halted  Kit  Carson; 

99 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

he  was  talking  earnestly  with  the  lieutenant  and  with 
Lucien  Maxwell  and  Basil  Lajeunesse,  and  pointing. 

"  We'll  have  to  turn  off.  Knew  we  would/'  pre 
dicted  Trapper  New.  "An'  that  army  fellow'll  find 
out  why,  if  Kit  hasn't  told  him  plain  enough  an'  he 
goes  on.  Yonder's  whar  the  Platte  comes  out  the  Fiery 
Narrows,  an*  on  above  the  Fiery  Narrows  (which  are 
some,  I  say!)  are  nothing  but  more  canyons  clear  to 
mouth  o'  Sweetwater.  Even  a  beaver  couldn't  get 
through,  an'  I  don't  reckon  we  can,  either.  An'  it'd 
take  a  bird  to  cross." 

Evidently  Kit  Carson  had  persuaded,  for  around 
swung  the  march,  to  double  on  its  trail  as  far  as  a  fair 
island,  divided  from  the  shore  by  only  a  shallow  cur 
rent.  Close  upon  either  bank  of  the  river  was  a  red 
ridge — one  set  with  the  "  pudding-stones,"  some  as 
large  as  a  football.  Upon  this  island,  grassy  and  con 
taining  about  twenty  acres,  was  established  the  night's 
camp.  To-morrow  would  the  march  be  directed  west 
across  the  angle  from  the  Platte  to  the  Sweetwater. 

"  Fifteen  miles,  an'  I'll  be  glad  to  get  thar,"  asserted 
Ike,  at  the  evening  fire.  "  Sweetwater  trail  is  good 
trap  trail;  an'  if  we're  locating  emigrant  route  to 
Oregon  that's  the  road." 

The  camp  was  a  cheerful  spot,  this  night,  being 
supplied  with  mountain  mutton;  for  Lieutenant  Fre 
mont  and  several  of  the  men  had  ridden  out  upon  a 
little  exploring  tour,  beyond  a  red  ridge,  and  had  re 
turned  with  mountain  sheep.  Now  arose  a  discussion 

100 


OVER  THE  FAMED  SOUTH  PASS 

as  to  whether  the  sheep  could  leap  off  high  cliffs  and 
land  head-first  on  their  broad-based  horns.  Ike  and 
William  New,  Joseph  Descoteaux  and  others  of  the 
Kentuckians  and  French  in  the  two  parties  claimed  to 
have  seen  the  sheep  make  such  escapes,  when  pursued 
— but  not  one  had  seen  them  land!  Mr.  Preuss,  the 
funny,  red-faced,  bristly-haired  German  who  was  the 
map-maker  and  sketcher  with  the  Fremont  party  and 
helped  Mr.  Fremont  in  figuring,  said  that  the  horns 
were  for  other  purpose.  However,  as  Kit  Carson  and 
the  lieutenant  were  inclined  to  believe  that  the  sheep 
could  perform  these  leaps,  the  theory  was  generally 
adopted. 

Goat  Island  was  this  camp  named,  because  of  the 
bag  of  sheep.  At  each  camp  Lieutenant  Fremont  and 
Mr.  Preuss  fussed  with  various  scientific  instruments — 
thermometer  (which  of  course  everybody  knew,  be 
cause  it  told  of  heat  and  cold),  and  barometer  (which 
somebody  said  measured  weight  of  air),  and  a  watch- 
like  thing  called  a  chronometer  (companion  to  which 
had  been  left  at  the  post,  for  Randolph  to  keep  wound 
up),  and  a  sextant  (which  was  claimed  to  be  a  sea 
instrument).  By  these  instruments  were  obtained  fig 
ures,  carefully  noted  down  in  a  book. 

As  many  of  the  figures  were  obtained  at  night,  in 
the  dark,  William  New  and  the  majority  of  the  voy- 
ageurs  and  trappers  were  much  puzzled.  Back  at  the 
post  the  Indians  had  deemed  the  lieutenant  to  be  a 
great  medicine  man,  who  read  the  sun  and  the  stars; 

101 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

and  his  tent  was  a  place  of  tremendous  mystery  to 
them. 

"  Latitude  so-an'-so,  longitude  so-an'-so,  I  hear 
said/'  grunted  Trapper  New.  "  That's  the  camping 
spot.  Now,  what  air  the  sense  o'  that,  unless  figgers 
air  written  on  the  grass  an'  rocks  so  you  can  read  'em  ? 
When  I  find  a  place  I  don't  look  for  figgers.  It  air  one 
day  travel  nor 'west  o'  the  second  left-hand  fork  o' 
Goose  Creek;  or  it  air  half-way  'twixt  Pilot  Peak  an' 
the  head  o'  the  Little  Blackfoot;  or  some  such.  But 
these  hyar  figgers !  I  never  saw  any  figgers,  anywhar." 

"What  is  this  camp,  Mr.  Preuss?"  asked  Oliver, 
politely,  of  the  busy  tow-headed  German. 

"  By  chronometer  and  lunar  distances  and  an  occul- 
tation  of  Epsilon  Arietis,  it  appears  to  be  longitude  one 
hundred  and  seven  degrees,  thirteen  minutes,  and 
twenty-nine  seconds,  east;  latitude  forty-two  degrees, 
thirty-three  minutes,  and  twenty-seven  seconds,  north," 
announced  Mr.  Preuss.  "  But  we  can't  be  sure  of  what 
instruments  we  have  left.  They  are  getting  badly 
shaken  up." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Oliver,  retiring,  knowing  no 
more  than  he  did  before.  And  he  was  much  inclined 
to  agree  with  Trapper  New. 

When  in  the  morning  they  plashed  away  for  the 
farther  bank,  they  left  upon  the  island  a  horse,  as 
garrison.  The  horse  was  too  worn  and  lame  to  travel ; 
but  with  its  plentiful  grass  and  its  abundant  water  the 
island  was  a  perfect  horse  sanatorium.  The  poor  ani- 

102 


OVER  THE  FAMED  SOUTH  PASS 

mal  gave  one  astonished  and  glad  whinny  after  them, 
and  fell  to  cropping  again  greedily,  as  if  fearful  lest 
they  might  change  their  minds. 

"How  far  to  Independence  Rock  now?"  asked 
Oliver,  of  William  New,  as  Goat  Island  and  the  river 
sank  from  view  behind  the  red  sandy,  pebbly  ridge. 

"  'Bout  twenty-three  or  four  mile,  I  reckon,  or  what 
Injuns  call  half  a  sun,"  answered  Trapper  New.  ;<  You 
must  be  heap  anxious  to  see  that  'ere  rock,  boy ! " 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  admitted  Oliver.  "  I'm  going  to  put 
my  name  on  it.  Is  yours  there  ?  " 

"  Used  to  be ;  an'  if  somebody  or  wind  an'  weather 
hasn't  scratched  it  out  it's  thar  yet.  But  it  doesn't 
'mount  to  much  'longside  names  that  nothing  can 
scratch  out." 

"  We  ought  to  camp  at  the  rock,  to-night." 

"  Can,  if  we  don't  stop  shorter,"  agreed  Trapper 
New,  dryly. 

But  they  did  stop;  for  as  they  were  descending  a 
long  slope  of  short  brush  and  flowers,  and  a  glimmer 
of  a  stream,  at  the  bottom,  had  risen  the  glad  cry: 
"  Sweetwater !  "  another  cry  interrupted.  "  Buffalo ! 
Buff 'ler !  "  At  the  mouth  of  a  shallow  valley,  across, 
had  appeared  dark  masses  that  looked  like  moving 
gooseberry  bushes. 

Down  dashed  Lucien  Maxwell,  the  official  hunter 
of  the  expedition ;  down  dashed  Kit  Carson,  and  Clem 
ent  Lambert,  and  Ike  and  William  New,  and  Oliver 
himself ;  and  as  soon  as  they  could  down  dashed  others: 

103 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

so  that  by  the  time  camp  was  located  beside  the  Sweet- 
water  and  fires  had  been  made,  the  first  buffalo  had 
fallen  to  the  crack  of  Kit  Carson's  rifle.  Oliver  killed 
a  fat  cow  and  a  huge  bull;  his  Kit  Carson  rifle  shot 
strong  and  true.  Every  hunter  was  successful,  so  that 
this  night  there  was  much  meat  in  camp,  and  the 
company  did  not  mind  sleeping  under  sage-bushes,  in 
a  rain.  Only  the  big  lodge  had  been  brought  along, 
and  here  was  no  tree  to  serve  as  lodge-pole. 

The  next  morning  they  moved  up  the  Sweetwater 
to  Independence  Rock. 

"  Thar  she  is — the  Sign-board  o'  the  Sweetwater 
Trail  to  South  Pass,"  directed  Ike,  as  the  Carson  squad 
came  in  sight  of  a  gray  mass  up-swelling  like  an  enor 
mous  whaleback  above  the  sea  of  sage;  a  single  pine, 
like  a  scrap  of  a  fin,  upon  its  very  spine. 

"  She's  independent,  all  right,"  observed  William 
New.  "  She  stands  out  alone.  But  I  reckon  she  war 
named  'cause  some  o'  Ashley's  beaver-hunters,  who 
broke  this  trail,  after  the  Injuns,  ten  or  fifteen  year 
ago  celebrated  Fourth  o'  July  hyar,  or  Indypendence 
Day,  as  it  air  called  down  east." 

Independence  iRock  was  a  huge  bare  weather- 
beaten,  rounded  mass  of  gray  granite,  forty  yards  high 
and  650  yards  long,  rising  right  out  of  the  plain,  on 
the  north  of  the  Sweetwater.  As  seemed  to  Oliver, 
curiously  examining  the  surface,  about  everybody  who 
had  passed  had  carved  or  scratched  his  name  or  initials. 
Here  were  names  of  trappers,  traders  and  missionaries, 

104 


THE  FIRST  BUFFALO  HAD  FALLEN  TO  THE  CRACK  OF  KIT  CARSON'S 

RIFLE 


OVER  THE  FAMED  SOUTH  PASS 

already  thickly  placed  as  high  as  arm  could  reach  from 
horseback.  To  read  the  collection  was  a  fascinating 
pastime.  Oliver  found  Kit  Carson's  name,  and  Jim 
Bridger's,  and  Jim  Beckwourth's,  and  William  New's, 
and  Ike's,  and  Sol  Silver's,  and  General  Ashley  the 
famous  Missouri  fur-trader's;  etc.  And  there  were 
many  Indian  signs;  and  there  were  names,  freshly 
carved,  of  the  emigrants  who  had  passed  by  only  two 
or  three  weeks  before.  And  a  large  "  Independence!' 

This  afternoon  part  of  the  company  (whose  names 
were  already  upon  the  rock)  went  buffalo  hunting; 
but  Oliver  and  the  others  attacked  the  rock. 

"  Hooray !  "  cheered  the  red-headed  Irishman  Tom 
Tobin,  appearing  from  the  other  side  of  the  rock, 
carrying  a  ladder  made  from  cross-sticks  tied  with  hide 
thongs  to  a  pair  of  lodge-poles. 

"  Sioux  ladder,"  pronounced  Mariano  the  Mexican. 
"Bueno!" 

Climbing  by  aid  of  this,  they  placed  their  names 
much  higher  than  any  names  yet. 

Early  the  next  day  the  second  of  the  Sweetwater 
Trail  wonders  was  reached.  This  was  Devil's  Gate, 
five  miles  above  Independence  Rock.  It  was  another 
canyon,  but  very  narrow,  about  300  yards  long,  and 
almost  150  deep;  and  through  it,  among  boulders  and 
jagged  blocks,  roared  the  Sweetwater.  The  trail  to 
the  South  Pass  made  a  circuit  back  from  this  Devil's 
Gate,  so  as  to  dodge  the  rough  ridge;  but  Lieutenant 
Fremont  and  the  scientific  Mr.  Preuss,  and  Oliver  and 

105 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

many  others  who  never  had  seen  into  Devil's  Gate,  or 
who  wanted  to  see  into  it  again,  rode  over  to  the  rim 
and  peered  down. 

The  trail  was  growing  rougher.  The  Sweetwater 
rippled  in  and  out  of  little  parks  or  pockets  amidst 
the  low  hills  of  its  valley;  a  mountain  range  bor 
dered  the  valley  on  either  hand,  and  to  the  south 
the  slopes  were  ablaze  with  fires  set  by  the  Indians  to 
drive  the  game  (said  William  New)  back  to  the  open 
country.  The  fire  seemed  to  make  rains  gather;  and 
to-night's  camp  was  another  wet,  uncomfortable  camp, 
but  nobody  complained.  However,  the  rain,  sweeping 
down  from  the  high  country,  certainly  was  cold ! 

"  See  thar?  "  invited  Trapper  New,  to  Oliver,  the 
next  morning,  pointing  ahead. 

They  were  topping  a  little  rise,  still  near  the  faith 
ful  guiding  Sweetwater;  and  far  before,  against  the 
horizon,  in  a  vista  opened  to  the  march,  a  line  of  dark 
mountains. 

"  Those  air  the  Wind  River  mountains,  to  north 
o'  the  South  Pass.  Pass  cuts  one  end  o'  them,  I  reckon. 
They're  heap  medicine  mountains;  Injuns  say  they're 
ha'nted  by  evil  spirits.  The  Crows  won't  go  in  'em." 

"How  far?"  asked  Oliver,  gazing  hard. 

"  Seventy  miles,  'bout." 

The  Sweetwater  was  slowly  dwindling,  as  they  ap 
proached  its  sources.  They  picked  up  an  Indian  horse 
whose  hoofs  were  sore;  and  an  Indian  dog,  who  was 

106 


OVER  THE  FAMED  SOUTH  PASS 

glad  of  the  scraps  that  the  men  tossed  to  him.  But  he 
wasn't  friendly,  and  Oliver  named  him  "  Wolf." 

Rain,  and  rain,  and  rain!  That  was  now  the 
weather  program,  every  day;  and  when,  five  days 
beyond  Devil's  Gate,  at  last  the  morning  broke  with 
sunshine,  suddenly  near  at  hand,  right  before,  rose 
grandly  with  complete  robe  of  dazzling  white  the  Wind 
River  mountain-chain.  So  high  and  aloof  were  they, 
that  upon  their  flanks  the  rain  had  been  snow. 

And  now  the  South  Pass  was  near  indeed,  for 
the  Sweetwater  was  dividing  into  several  streams, 
spreading  like  the  veins  of  a  leaf,  to  drain  the  little 
side  valleys. 

"  What  do  yore  riggers  say  as  to  our  height  up?  " 
queried  Ike,  carelessly,  of  Mr.  Preuss. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,  yet,  my  friend,"  responded  Mr. 
Preuss,  nervously. 

"  Wall,"  remarked  Ike,  "  I  can  tell  you  without  fig- 
gers  that  we're  climbing.  Cactuses  air  going;  moss  air 
beginning;  an'  that's  a  sartin  sign,  in  the  hills." 

Oliver  kept  his  eyes  sharp  set  for  the  celebrated 
pass.  He  had  before  crossed  the  top  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains;  but  here  was  a  pass  the  most  famous  of 
all — said  to  be  the  only  single  pass  by  which  the 
traveller  changed  at  once  from  the  east  side  to  the  west 
side  of  the  mountains.  So  he  watched  keenly. 

The  morning  was  rainy,  again;  Kit  Carson  and 
Lieutenant  Fremont  led  the  march  away  from  the 
wheel-marked  road  which  had  been  followed  much  of 

107 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

the  time,  and  took  a  saddle  and  pack  trail  that  swung 
out,  one  side.  They  all  rode  along  leisurely  and  with 
out  trouble,  winding  about  upon  a  series  of  billowy 
slopes,  with  the  Wind  River  Mountains  gradually 
unfolding  gap  and  crest,  on  the  right.  After  a  ride 
of  five  or  six  miles  Kit  Carson  and  Lieutenant  Fremont 
halted,  and  engaged  in  a  discussion,  while  now  and  then 
pointing  and  examining.  The  cavalcade  gradually 
gathered  about  them. 

"  I've  been  hyar,  on  an'  off,  during  a  dozen  years," 
was  saying  Kit  Carson,  mildly.  "  An'  I  nor  any  other 
man  can  ever  be  exactly  sure.  But  'cording  to  my 
notion  an'  my  recollection,  this  ought  to  be  it." 

"  It  seems  so  to  me,  too,"  concurred  the  lieutenant. 

"  But  where's  the  pass  ? "  queried  Oliver,  of 
William  New. 

Trapper  New  chuckled. 

"  Whar?  Look  under  yore  hoss,  boy.  You're  on 
it!" 

"  South  Pass?  "  stammered  Oliver,  astounded. 

"  Right.  Kit  says  the  top — didn't  ye  hear  him  ? 
Behind  air  the  United  States,  before  air  Oregon.  All 
that  'ere  country,  west  to  the  mouth  o'  the  Columbia 
at  the  Pacific  Ocean;  that  air  Oregon.  And  wagh! 
what  a  beaver  country!  Down  below  us,  northwest, 
air  the  Valley  o'  the  Green  River,  big  trappers'  ren 
dezvous  place." 

This  was  the  pass — the  great  South  Pass?  They 
had  halted  upon  an-  open  swale  between  twain  low 

108 


OVER  THE  FAMED  SOUTH  PASS 

rounded,  smooth  hills;  behind  them,  the  route  which 
they  had  traversed,  stretched  a  billowy  sandy  slope 
which  was  the  ascent,  but  which  Oliver  had  not  recog 
nized  as  such. 

"  About  the  grade  of  Capitol  Hill,  from  "the  Ave 
nue,  at  Washington/'  commented  Lieutenant  Fremont. 
"  How  is  the  other  side — the  same  ?  " 

"  About  the  same,"  nodded  Kit. 

"  How  runs  the  road  to  the  Columbia — the  remain 
ing  part  of  this  Oregon  Trail?  " 

"  At  the  foot  of  the  pass  thar's  the  Little  Sandy 
an'  the  Big  Sandy  Rivers,  an'  all  flat  desert  clear  to  the 
Crossing  o'  the  Green  River.  Then  it  gets  rougher 
from  the  Green  west  to  the  Bear  an'  on  northwest  up 
the  Bear  to  the  Sody  Springs.  Then  it  air  on  westward 
and  northward  from  the  B'ar  to  Fort  Hall  at  the 
Snake ;  west  up  along  the  Snake — or  what  some  call  the 
Lewis  Ford  o'  the  Columbia — a  two  weeks'  march 
across  the  Plains  o'  the  Snake  an'  a  bad  country  beyond 
to  Fort  Boise  toward  the  mouth  o'  the  Snake ;  then  it's 
across  the  the  Blue  Mountains,  to  the  Columbia;  an' 
from  thar  it  air  'bout  two  hundred  miles  to  Vancouver, 
they  say.  As  for  myself,  I've  never  been  much  west, 
on  that  trail,  o'  Goose  Creek  between  Hall  and  Boise." 

Gazing  into  the  west,  where  hazy  lay  Oregon,  Fre 
mont's  blue  eyes  kindled  and  flashed. 

"  What  a  country !  "  he  said.  "  And  there  waits 
the  trail.  It's  a  hard  trail,  Kit  ?  " 

"Right  hard.     These  wagons  ahead  of  us  may 

109 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

get  through  to  Fort  Hall,  but  beyond  Hall  it's  hoss, 
mule  an'  moccasins,  nigh  a  thousand  miles." 

"It's  a  trail  I'd  like  to  try,"  mused  Fremont. 
"  And  it's  a  country  worth  a  bigger  try.  The  United 
States  has  better  claim  to  it  than  England  has.  Eng 
land  has  her  hunters  there — we'll  have  our  farmers 
there;  and  the  man  who  tills  the  soil  is  the  man  who 
wins  the  land.  He  produces,  and  stays;  the  trapper 
only  consumes,  and  moves  on." 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder,"  responded  Kit  Carson, 
slowly.  "  We  trappers  open  the  way — but  that's  all. 
I've  often  thought  that  I'd  go  to  farming,  an'  I  believe 
I  will.  Some  o'  the  mountain-men  air  at  work  already, 
in  the  Columbia  country." 

"  Well/'  quoth  the  lieutenant,  "  we'll  have  to  see 
more  of  that  country.;  this  isn't  the  end  of  the  trail, 
yet,  you  know.  But  the  South  Pass  is  about  the  limit 
of  my  orders.  However — en  avant!  We  can  camp 
at  the  west  foot,  on  the  Pacific  side.  I  want  to  cross." 


VIII 
PLANTING  THE  HIGHEST  FLAG 


IT  was  the  third  day  after  the  halt  upon  crossing 
of  the  South  Pass ;  now  in  camp  by  a  lake  at  the  head 
of  the  New  Fork  of  the  Green  River,  northwest  from 
the  South  Pass,  the  lieutenant  had  decided  to  climb  the 
Wind  River  mountain-chain,  to  the  northeast,  and 
measure  the  highest  peak. 

Here  in  the  grove  of  beech-trees  amidst  which 
the  camp  was  located  the  lieutenant  fortified  by  raising 
a  breastwork  of  logs ;  in  charge  of  this  camp  and  corral 
he  and  Kit  Carson  left  about  half  the  company,  under 
Baptiste  Bernier  of  the  Fremont  party;  and  with  the 
other  half,  provisioned  by  dried  meat,  maccaroni  and 
coffee  for  two  days,  they  set  out. 

"  Wall,  boy,"  said  Kit,  in  telling  off  his  own  party, 
to  the  expectant  Oliver,  "  what  do  you  think  ?  Can 
you  make  a  climb  like  that,  into  the  snow?  You'll 
freeze  yore  moccasins." 

The  Carson  tanned,  sandy  face  was  solemn,  but  the 
keen  gray  eyes  were  twinkling;  for  he  read  Oliver 
through  and  through.  He  knew  how  hard  Oliver 
wanted. 

"  I  think  I  could  do  it,"  answered  Oliver,  hopefully. 
"  I'm  not  afraid  to  try." 

ill 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  Better  come  along  then,"  bade  Kit ;  and  proceeded 
with  his  duties. 

Oliver  went. 

One  snowy  peak  of  the  heavily-wooded,  white- 
crested,  sharp-toothed  ridge  to  the  northward  seemed 
to  stand  up  above  all  others.  This  was  accepted  by  the 
camp  below  as  being  the  highest  peak  of  the  Wind 
River  Mountains.  Some  of  the  men  thought  it  to  be 
one  mile,  some  two  miles,  some  three  miles  high;  and 
all  declared  it  to  be  higher  than  the  great  James'  or 
Pike's  Peak  which  was  the  landmark  northwest  of 
Bent's  Fort. 

The  South  Pass  had  been  crossed  during  August  8 ; 
now  early  in  the  morning  of  August  12  the  little  party 
left  Camp  Bernier  (as  it  was  christened,  in  honor  of 
Baptiste  its  commander),  and  upon  the  best  of  the 
hardy  mules,  with  pack  animal  for  the  coffeepot  and 
the  meat  kettle  and  a  few  tin  cups  and  the  provisions, 
each  member  carrying  at  his  saddle  a  blanket  for  bed 
ding,  headed  forth  for  the  great  feat. 

The  first  day's  travel  conducted  amidst  a  richly 
verdured  country  of  trees  and  grass  and  flowers,  secret 
valleys,  rushing  streams  and  gem-like  lakes — a  con 
stant  surprise  to  Kit  Carson  and  all,  who  never  had 
penetrated  here  before.  In  late  afternoon  were  passed 
wonderful  lakes  which  poured  one .  into  another  by 
cataracts;  and  through  a  silent  level  forest,  grassed 
like  a  city  lawn,  the  explorers,  riding  on,  camped  in  a 

112 


PLANTING  THE  HIGHEST  FLAG 

dark,  rock-and-pine  surrounded  little  gulch — "  the 
heart,"  as  William  New  expressed,  "  o'  nowhere." 

"  Never  white  nor  Injun  war  in  this  region  be 
fore,"  he  asserted,  with  wag  of  his  shaggy  head. 
"This  chile  ain't  afraid;  but  if  these  hyar  mountains 
air  ha'nted  an'  the  spirits  air  up  to  trap,  they  got  a 
chance  to  get  us,  sure !  " 

However,  Oliver  saw  Kit  Carson  wink  at  the  lieu 
tenant  and  Lucien  Maxwell,  as  the  speech  reached 
them,  and  it  was  evident  that  these  three  leaders  did 
not  believe  the  Indian  tales.  Consequently  he  himself 
decided  that  the  reports  of  "  evil  spirits  "  awaiting  were 
all  bosh. 

Kit  Carson  pointed  through  the  little  gulch. 

"  Thar's  our  peak/'  he  said. 

In  the  gulch  defile  dusk  had  gathered;  but  outside 
still  lingered  the  twilight,  and  beyond  the  end  of  the 
gulch  lifted,  massy  in  the  near  distance,  a  snow  summit. 

There  was  space  for  only  a  few  stars  at  a  time 
to  peer  down  into  the  narrow  gulch ;  but  the  camp  fires 
lighted  redly  the  jumbled  rocks  and  the  crowded 
circle  of  pines  like  blanketed  Indians  of  heroic  size. 
Guarded  by  fires,  and  stars,  and  courage,  and  by  One 
who  was  nearer  than  the  fires,  farther  than  the  stars, 
and  mightier  than  courage,  here  through  the  chill 
black  night  of  the  deepest  wilds  safely  slept  the  camp. 

In  the  morning  start  was  made  early.  The  ride 
onward,  up  a  long  valley  which  flowed  with  springs 
and  bloomed  with  many  flowers,  promised  success. 

8  113 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

And  when  they  reached  the  head  of  the  valley,  they 
found  themselves  at  a  fair  little  lake,  set  about  with 
asters,  in  a  green  lawn  bordered  by  rocks  and  pines. 

At  the  edge  the  park  fell  away  into  a  wide  cross- 
draw  rippled  by  ridges;  and  across  it,  apparently  not 
more  than  a  mile,  rose  again  the  Wind  River  Range 
surmounted  by  the  high  peak. 

The  lieutenant  and  Kit  Carson  determined  that 
now  the  mules  and  the  baggage  might  be  left  and  that 
the  draw  should  be  crossed  and  the  climb  beyond  be 
made  afoot.  Accordingly,  here  in  this  beautiful  little 
basin  was  stationed  a  "  mule  camp  " ;  here  were  left  the 
provisions  and  blankets  and  coats,  with  two  or  three 
men  in  charge.  Afoot  the  others  pushed  on,  in  their 
flannel  shirt-sleeves — for  so  near  seemed  the  snowy 
range  that  they  felt  certain  of  climbing  it  and  return 
ing  before  dark!  Lieutenant  Fremont  carried  tucked 
inside  his  shirt  an  American  flag,  of  special  design 
showing  amidst  the  stars  an  eagle  clutching  peace-pipe 
and  arrows.  Such  a  token  the  Indians  could  under 
stand.  This  flag  the  lieutenant  wished  to  plant  on  the 
loftiest  spire  of  the  West. 

This  proved  a  very  deceptive  valley.  Those  ridges 
which  looked  upon  from  above  had  appeared  to  be 
ripples,  when  inspected  from  below  were  gigantic 
breakers,  500  feet  high,  frequently  separated  by  chasms. 
Therefore  the  pace  was  up,  and  down,  and  back  and 
around,  and  each  task  achieved  brought  but  another 
as  hard  or  harder.  Rocks  fell,  waters  seen  and  unseen 

114, 


PLANTING  THE  HIGHEST  FLAG 

roared,  the  difficulties  increased,  and  almost  might  the 
wayfarer  believe,  like  Trapper  William  New,  that  the 
Wind  River  Mountains  were  held  under  the  rule  of  evil 
spirits. 

By  four  o'clock  the  line  of  bristling  snow-seamed 
crests  looked  as  far  ahead  as  ever.  Now  torn  and 
scarred  and  hungry  and  exhausted,  the  party  came 
together  upon  the  sandy  beach  of  another  little  lake, 
amidst  the  innumerable  ridges.  Here  upon  a  broad 
flat  rock  above  the  lake  they  camped  for  the  night. 

Just  beyond  the  lake  and  camp  all  trees  ceased,  and 
around  about  were  snow  patches.  The  sun  sank,  be 
hind  the  dark  ridges ;  an  icy  breeze  sprang  up,  soughing 
through  the  few  pines,  mingling  its  song  with  the 
weird  chant  of  a  waterfall  emptying  into  the  lake 
below. 

The  lieutenant  was  suddenly  stricken  with  a  violent 
attack  of  headache  and  stomach-sickness.  They  de 
cided  that  this  was  due  to  climbing  up  and  down  among 
the  rocks,  and  to  the  lack  of  food  and  warmth.  The 
breeze  blew  away  the  heat  of  the  fires,  the  moon  arose 
and  seemed  to  make  things  colder,  the  granite  rock  was 
hard  and  chill,  they  had  nothing  to  eat  and  no  cover 
ings  ;  and  altogether  it  was  an  uncomfortable  camp. 

Nobody  complained,  of  course.  They  were  men, 
and  explorers.  Kit  Carson  said  that  he  had  been  in 
worse  places,  and  afterwards  had  been  in  better  places, 
and  that  he  expected  to  be  in  better  places  again !  This 
was  a  cheering  thought. 

115 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Oliver  curled  in  the  lee  of  a  fire,  so  that  a  little 
of  the  heat  might  blow  across  him,  and  occasionally 
he  dozed.  Whenever  he  awakened,  he  saw  the  grim, 
whitish  line  of  pinnacles,  cold  and  still  in  the  moon 
light,  as  if  watching  and  waiting  for  their  next  efforts. 

Early  in  the  morning,  "  not  being  delayed  by  any 
breakfast,"  as  remarked  Lieutenant  Fremont  (who 
was  better),  they  set  out  again. 

Now  the  enchanter  guarding  the  magic  pinnacles 
doubled  his  spells  against  them.  Steeper  were  the 
ridges,  sharper  were  the  precipices,  more  loudly  roared 
the  waters,  ice  and  snow  were  strewn  underfoot.  Mr. 
Preuss  slipped  and  slid  head  over  heels  down  an  ice 
field  into  the  bristling  rocks  at  the  bottom.  But  he 
was  only  bruised.  Clement  Lambert  and  Joseph  Des- 
coteauxwere  taken  ill  and  must  lie  down  in  their  tracks. 
Lieutenant  Fremont  also  was  taken  ill,  again,  in  head 
and  stomach ;  and  halting  sent  his  barometer  on  to  Mr. 
Preuss  the  plucky  German,  who  was  ahead.  Mr. 
Preuss  must  proceed  to  the  high  peak  and  see  what 
the  barometer  said  when  there.  But  Mr.  Preuss  found 
himself  cut  off  from  the  peak  by  a  precipice  or  canyon. 
Kit  Carson,  trying  to  reach  Mr.  Preuss  and  help  him, 
discovered  a  trail  to  the  main  divide,  and  climbing 
a  knob  or  butte  saw  the  high  peak,  which  they  had  been 
calling  the  "  Snow  Peak,"  still  a  thousand  feet  above 
him! 

So  back  he  came,  and  they  all  went  into  council. 
Lieutenant  Fremont  seemed  to  be  growing  worse; 

116 


PLANTING  THE  HIGHEST  FLAG 

Clement  Lambert  and  Joseph  Descoteaux  were  very 
weak;  but  nobody  was  ready  to  quit.  Instead,  Basil 
Lajeunesse  with  a  party  of  four  was  despatched  back 
to  the  Mule  Camp,  to  bring  up  mules  and  provisions 
and  blankets.  How  the  mules  would  get  through  none 
might  say;  but  they  would,  for  mules  always  did. 
Wherever  a  man  could  go,  a  mule  could  go. 

"  Hadn't  you  better  go  along  back,  too,  boy? " 
asked  Kit  Carson,  of  Oliver;  and  Oliver  shook  his 
head. 

"  I'm  all  right ;  I'd  rather  stay,"  he  said,  trying 
not  to  let  his  teeth  chatter. 

With  Lieutenant  Fremont  very  ill  and  scarcely  able 
to  stagger,  they  returned  to  the  camp  on  the  rock  above 
the  lake,  and  waited  here. 

Lieutenant  Fremont,  pale  and  giddy,  lay  with  his 
arm  over  his  eyes,  to  shut  out  the  light;  the  others  sat 
about — Clement  Lambert  and  Joseph  Descoteaux  lan 
guid,  their  heads  drooping.  Silence  reigned — and 
sharper  and  colder  stood  forth  the  line  of  pinnacles, 
as  more  swiftly  sank  the  sun.  Presently  Lieutenant 
Fremont  stirred,  sat  up,  and  spoke. 

"  I  think  that  we've  done  about  all  that  we  can,  in 
this  direction,"  he  said.  "  What  do  you  think,  Kit?  " 

"  Wall,"  drawled  Kit  Carson,  quietly,  "  we  can 
climb  it  if  we  keep  trying  along  enough.  I've  been  in 
wuss  places  before." 

"  The  survey  itself  is  finished — as  much  as  the 
War  Department  would  require,  and  I  doubt  if  this 

117 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 


extra  risk  to  all  concerned  in  the  party  is  authorized," 
continued  Lieutenant  Fremont.  "  I  think  that  first 
thing  in  the  morning  you'd  better  take  the  most  of  the 
men  and  go  on  down  to  the  Mule  Camp;  and  after 
we  make  a  few  more  observations  the  rest  of  us  will 
follow.  Basil  probably  won't  bring  up  enough  stuff  to 
last  the  whole  party  of  us  long." 

"  Thar  he  comes,"  announced  William  New. 

Sure  enough!  The  clatter  and  scraping  of  hoofs 
among  rocks  could  be  heard,  plainly,  from  below.  And 
presently  a  small  cavalcade  struggling  over  log  and 
boulder  appeared,  rounding  the  end  of  the  lake.  A 
cheer  welled — "  crack !  crack !  "  rifle  and  pistol  ex 
changed  salutes — and  soon  the  rescue  squad  panted 
into  the  camp  at  the  flat  granite  rock. 

They  were  Basil  and  four  new  men  in  place  of 
the  four  whom  Basil  had  worn  out  on  the  trip  down ; 
and  their  saddle  animals  and  several  led  mules,  bearing 
blankets  and  provisions.  Hurrah !  Now  with  the  hot 
coffee  and  the  dried  meat  served  hot  or  cold  it  seemed 
that  the  fires,  as  if  fed  also,  burned  brighter,  that  the 
rock  was  softer,  that  the  breeze  was  gentler,  and  that 
even  the  grim  row  of  pinnacles,  o'er- watching,  vented 
a  smile  or  two.  Rolled  in  the  army  blankets  everybody 
slept. 

For  his  part,  so  soundly  slept  Oliver  that  when  he 
opened  his  eyes  it  was  to  sunshine  and  breakfast  prep 
arations.  Rather  scandalized  at  his  laziness  (which 

118 


PLANTING  THE  HIGHEST  FLAG 

was  not  laziness  at  all)  he  struggled  to  throw  off  his 
blanket  and  to  sit  up. 

Mr.  Preuss  and  Auguste  Janisse  (who  was  one  of 
the  Fremont  Frenchmen)  were  busy  attending  to  fire 
and  coffee;  otherwise  the  camp  seemed  deserted. 

"  Ah,  good  morning,"  greeted  Mr.  Preuss,  his  tow 
hair  upright  as  usual,  his  German  features  red.  "  Du 
hast  sehr  wohl  geschlept;  what?  Well,  they  have 
gone  and  left  you." 

"  Who  ?  "  stammered  Oliver,  blinking  about. 

"Kit  and  your  party;  Maxwell  and  the  others, 
too." 

"The  lieutenant?" 

"  No.    We  stay." 

"  Oui ;  we  stay.  Maybe  we  try  again,"  added 
Auguste. 

At  the  moment  Lieutenant  Fremont  strode  around 
a  rock;  he  and  Basil  Lajeunesse  and  Joseph  Descoteaux 
and  Clement  Lambert  had  been  down  to  look  after  the 
mules. 

"  Hello,  my  boy,"  spoke  the  lieutenant,  with  cheery 
smile.  "  Kit  and  your  crowd  have  gone;  they  went  at 
day-break,  as  arranged  last  night,  for  the  mule  camp; 
but  we  thought  we'd  let  you  sleep." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  stammered  Oliver,  striving  to 
collect  his  memories.  "  I  was  to  go,  too.  I  didn't 
mean  to  sleep  over.  Can't  I  catch  them?  " 

"  You  can  stay  with  us,  if  you  like.  We'll  follow, 
during  the  day." 

119 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

At  this  moment  Clement  Lambert  winked  and 
nodded  so  hard  at  Oliver,  that  Oliver  decided 
promptly : 

"  I'll  stay,  sir." 

For  evidently  something  especial  was  brewing,  be 
sides  coffee! 

At  breakfast  the  secret  came  out. 

"  We'll  make  one  more  try,  boys,"  spoke  Lieuten 
ant  Fremont.  "  The  day's  fine,  we're  in  good  shape 
with  food  and  a  night's  rest,  and  Basil  and  I've  noted 
a  narrow  draw  off  the  left  that  looks  like  a  trail  to  the 
top  of  the  divide.  We've  got  all  day  before  us,  and 
can  take  things  easy." 

"  Good !  "  approved  Mr.  Preuss ;  and  "  Bien ! 
Good !  "  echoed  the  others,  nodding. 

"  I  didn't  expect  to  do  this,  when  I  let  Kit  and  the 
rest  go  back,"  said  the  lieutenant.  "  But  we  ought  not 
to  miss  this  chance.  The  boy  here  must  represent  the 
Taos  crowd." 

And  Oliver  determined  that  he  would  if  he  could. 

Enough  food  for  one  more  meal  was  saved,  and 
covered  over  with  rocks  so  that  birds  would  not  eat  it. 
Then  upon  the  mules  they  set  forth,  to  climb  that 
highest  peak.  They  felt  fresh,  the  mules  seemed  to 
feel  fresh ;  and  through  the  long  narrow  draw,  almost 
a  little  canyon,  they  made  steady  way.  This  was  the 
defile  which  the  lieutenant  and  Basil  Lajeunesse  had 
discovered.  Sure  enough,  it  led  up  and  out  to  the  very 

190 


PLANTING  THE  HIGHEST  FLAG 

divide  itself.  And  here  they  were,  at  last,  mules  and 
all! 

The  mountain  chain  now  rose  above  them  like  a 
huge  granite  wall,  well-nigh  perpendicular,  and  break 
ing,  two  or  three  thousand  feet  above  their  heads,  into 
a  line  of  saw-tooth  peaks.  They  were  enabled  to  ride 
along  until  under  the  Snow  Peak  itself ;  upon  a  grassy 
bench  above  a  trio  of  mystic  green  lakes,  they  turned 
loose  the  faithful  mules,  and  proceeded  to  climb  afoot. 

"  Take  it  easy/'  ordered  the  lieutenant,  as  they 
panted  in  the  thin  air. 

Each  picking  what  he  considered  the  easiest  trail, 
they  gradually  strung  out.  The  lieutenant  had  left 
his  rifle  down  near  the  mules,  and  wore  his  pistols; 
but  some  of  the  men  had  no  pistols  and  some  refused 
to  lay  aside  their  rifles  anyway,  for  it  was  against 
mountain-man  rules  ever  to  move  from  camp  without 
rifle  in  hand.  Oliver  carried  his  Kit  Carson  rifle; 
and  as  he  toiled  to  keep  up  with  Basil  and  Mr.  Preuss, 
just  in  front  of  him,  glancing  aside  he  saw  that  the 
lieutenant,  off  by  himself,  was  halting,  to  change  his 
thick  moccasins  for  a  pair  of  thin  ones.  Then  the 
lieutenant  continued,  lightly  and  rapidly,  up  a  steep 
bare  stretch  which  he  had  found. 

"  En  avant,  mes  braves,"  he  panted,  cheerily — 
which  was  French  for  "  Forward,  my  brave  fellows." 

He  sprang  ahead  for  another  of  the  many  irregu 
lar  ridges  or  wrinkles ;  what  an  energetic,  tireless  man 
he  was,  thought  Oliver;  he  was  almost  the  equal  of 

121 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Kit  Carson — and  he  was  only  an  army  officer  and  was 
not  a  trapper.  Up  to  the  top  of  the  next  rock  ridge 
scrambled  the  lieutenant;  and  abruptly  his  voice 
sounded,  thin  but  commanding : 

"  Look  out!  Wait  where  you  are!  I  think  this  is 
it!" 

He  was  bracing  himself  cautiously,  as  if  balanced ; 
and  he  peered  around,  examining  the  horizon.  More 
cautiously  he  stepped  back,  and  down  a  few  paces. 

"  Now,  one  at  a  time,"  he  called.  "  No  more.  And 
be  careful." 

Mr.  Preuss  climbed,  stood,  and  in  turn  backed 
down ;  Basil  Lajeunesse  did  the  same ;  and  did  the  same 
all,  Oliver  last.  Oliver  found  himself  upon  a  comb 
of  gray  granite,  only  about  three  feet  wide,  wind-swept 
of  snow,  sloping  keenly  and  breaking,  in  another  step, 
to  an  icy  precipice — as  the  eaves  of  a  house  break 
beyond  the  gutter-pipes.  Five  hundred  feet  below,  like 
the  roof  of  a  porch,  for  instance,  lay  a  great  snow-field, 
which  sloped  off  to  another  precipice;  and  after  this 
a  snow-field  which  might  be  called  the  ground  below 
the  porch-eaves  spread  abroad  to  a  ridge  (which  might 
be  a  buried  fence)  a  mile  away. 

"Come  down,"  ordered  the  lieutenant  of  Oliver; 
and  as  cautiously  as  anybody  Oliver  backed  off. 

The  lieutenant  mounted  again,  and  the  instruments 
were  passed  up  to  him.  He  took  observations;  then 
tying  his  flag  to  a  ramrod  he  planted  it  in  a  crevice  of 
the  rock  cap.  Backing  off,  he  drew  his  pistol. 

122 


PLANTING  THE  HIGHEST  FLAG 

"  Ready !  "  he  called ;  there  was  quick  cocking  of 
pistols  and  rifles ;  "  fire !  " 

"Crack-crack!  Spat!  Crack!"  Flat  were  the 
reports,  cut  short  without  echo;  but  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  here  unfurled  had  been  saluted. 

Lieutenant  Fremont  and  Mr.  Preuss  were  busily 
figuring  out  what  the  barometer  and  the  thermometer 
records  would  tell  them. 

"  Thirteen  thousand,  five  hundred  and  seventy 
feet,"  announced  Lieutenant  Fremont.  "  Probably  the 
highest  peak  of  the  Rockies — and  certainly  the  highest 
flag  in  the  world/'  and  he  removed  his  hat. 

They  removed  theirs,  for  a  moment. 

"Ma  foi!  And  the  highest  bee  in  the  world!" 
ejaculated  Auguste  Janisse,  pointing  to  his  knee. 

A  bumble-bee  had  lighted  upon  it ! 

"  I  declare !  "  exclaimed  the  lieutenant.  "  Who'd 
think  to  find  a  bee  up  here  in  the  ice — more  than  two 
miles  high!  Well,  my  little  chap,  you  deserve  to  live 
if  you  can,  but  this  is  the  best  I  can  do  for  you,  in  the 
way  of  flowers ; "  and  gently  plucking  the  numbed 
insect  from  Auguste's  knee  he  laid  him  among  the  dried 
botanical  specimens  between  the  leaves  of  a  field  book. 


IX 
THE  VOYAGING  OF  THE  PLATTE 

SEVERAL  days  had  gone  by  since,  on  this  noon  of 
August  15,  in  this  year  1842,  the  Fremont  little  squad, 
toiling  where  never  before  had  stepped  human  foot — 
foot  of  Indian  nor  foot  of  even  hardy  trapper — at  last 
stood  upon  what  they  believed  to  be  the  highest  point 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  To-day  we  know  that  Fre 
mont  Peak,  at  the  western  border  of  Wyoming,  is  not 
the  highest  point  of  the  Rocky  Mountains;  it  is  out 
ranked  by  many  another  peak ;  but  mere  figures  cannot 
always  measure  human  endeavor,  and  in  boldly  assail 
ing  and  overcoming  this  the  highest,  most  kingly  peak 
within  their  knowledge,  there  to  plant  their  flag,  Lieu 
tenant  John  C.  Fremont  and  companions  show  as  fine 
quality  of  spirit  as  though  the  crest  had  been  a  thous 
and  feet  further.  They  did  their  best,  to  the  limit  of 
opportunity. 

To-day  is  August  23.  The  great  South  Pass  from 
which  still  onward  stretched  into  "Oregon"  the 
wagon-wheel  track  of  the  first  American  emigrants 
has  been  re-crossed ;  and  again  at  Independence  Rock, 
Fremont  has  paused  to  inscribe  amidst  the  thickly 
written  names  a  large  cross — token  of  westward  press- 

124 


THE  VOYAGING  OF  THE  PLATTE 

ing  Christianity  and  civilization.  This  cross  he  filled 
with  softened  India-rubber,  to  preserve  the  trace. 
From  the  Rock  he  continued  east  on  down  the  Sweet- 
water  to  its  mouth.  Here  at  its  juncture  with  the 
Platte  he  is  about  to  launch,  on  the  morrow,  his  rubber 
boat. 

This  boat  (which  smelled  very  disagreeable — 
"  wuss'n  the  tar  springs  at  head  o'  Yellowstone,"  com 
plained  William  New)  was  twenty  feet  long  and  five 
feet  wide,  when  unfolded,  and  had  air-tight  compart 
ments  to  be  blown  up  or  inflated  so  that  it  should  not 
sink  if  capsized.  It  already  had  capsized,  once,  on  the 
Kansas  River,  at  the  start  of  the  expedition  from 
Missouri. 

Now  the  lieutenant  was  determined  to  canoe  down 
the  Platte,  through  the  canyons,  to  see  what  the  river 
looked  like  where  it  was  hidden  from  the  trail.  Kit 
Carson  shook  his  head  over  the  plan. 

"  You'd  better  not,"  he  said.  "  It's  too  dangerous. 
Thar  air  nothing  but  red  canyons,  one  after  another, 
cl'ar  till  the  Platte  gets  out  the  mountains,  at  our  fust 
camp  above  Laramie.  Canyons  air  full  o'  falls  an* 
rapids,  an'  some  o'  those  rocks  sticking  up  will  punch 
a  hole  in  that  rubber  contraption,  sure.  Fitzpatrick 
tried  the  trip,  by  boat,  once,  an'  lost  all  his  pelts  an' 
'most  lost  his  life." 

"  Chut !  "  smiled  the  lieutenant.  "  My  orders  are 
to  survey  the  Platte,  and  that  seems  the  only  way  to 
do  it.  With  this  boat  and  good  men  to  handle  the 

125 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

paddle  I'll  start  at  day-break  and  meet  you  at  Goat 
Island  for  breakfast !  " 

So  was  it  arranged  that  the  main  portion  of  the 
company  should  cut  across  by  the  land  trail,  as  before 
taken,  for  Goat  Island  where  they  had  left  the  Platte 
for  the  Sweetwater  on  their  way  out;  and  that  the 
lieutenant  and  his  crew  should  go  on  down  by  water. 

The  Taos  party,  including  Kit  Carson  also,  had 
been  disappointed  over  not  climbing  the  peak,  and 
Oliver  had  felt  elated ;  but  none,  not  even  Oliver,  was 
disappointed  over  being  omitted  from  the  boat  crew. 
For  his  crew  Lieutenant  Fremont  selected  Mr.  Preuss 
the  German;  Clement  Lambert,  Basil  Lajeunesse, 
Honore  Ayot,  Leonard  Benoit,  Joseph  Descoteaux, 
who  were  accustomed  to  paddling. 

Camp  was  broken  at  dawn.  The  rubber  boat, 
stretched  and  inflated,  had  been  packed  with  ten  or 
twelve  days'  provisions,  principally  dried  meat,  and 
with  the  precious  scientific  instruments,  and  with 
enough  bedding. 

"  Thar's  a  thirty-foot  fall  down  a  ways !  Hear  her 
roaring  ? "  shouted  Trapper  New,  as  the  boat-crew 
launched  forth.  "  Watch  out  for  her!  " 

The  lieutenant  nodded  and  gayly  waved  his  hand. 
His  men  paddled  hard,  the  Platte  was  broad  and 
smooth  for  several  miles,  and  with  its  load  the  rubber 
canoe  glided  rapidly  down. 

The  land  party  watched  for  only  a  minute.  They 
must  cut  across  for  Goat  Island,  so  as  to  meet  the 

126 


THE  VOYAGING  OF  THE  PLATTE 

voyagers  there,  at  breakfast — although  the  lieutenant 
had  said  that  if  he  reached  it  first  he  would  leave  a 
note  before  passing  on.  However,  he  did  not  reach  it 
first! 

It  was  only  about  twelve  miles  across  from  the 
mouth  of  the  Sweetwater  to  the  Platte  at  Goat  Island. 
Here  on  Goat  Island  was  found  the  horse  that  had  been 
left  there  to  recover;  she  now  was  sleek  and  seemed 
strong  upon  her  feet,  and  very  glad  to  see  the  other 
horses  and  the  mules. 

By  breakfast  time  the  lieutenant  had  not  appeared ; 
nor  did  he  and  his  squad  appear  by  ten  o'clock.  Higher 
climbed  the  sun,  marching  from  east  to  west  through 
the  great  blue  dome,  and  Kit  Carson  and  all  began  to 
grow  uneasy.  Close  watch  was  kept  of  the  river,  for 
any  tokens  of  a  wreck;  but  nothing  unusual  drifted 
down  upon  the  swollen  tide  which  ran  turgid  with  the 
rains  and  melted  snows. 

"  Something's  gone  wrong  with  that  rubber  con 
traption,"  declared  Kit.  "  I  knew  it  would.  I  told 
'em  so."  And  he  fidgeted  here  and  there.  "  We'd 
better  ride  up  the  river,  as  far  as  we  can,  on  both  sides, 
an'  find  'em." 

So  while  a  portion  of  the  party  remained  to  guard 
the  camp,  the  others  divided  into  two  squads  to  scout 
either  side  of  the  Platte.  Kit  led  a  little  squad  up 
on  the  right,  Oliver  was  told  off  to  ride  with  Ike 
Chamberlain's  squad,  on  the  left. 

The  country  along  the  left  side  of  the  river  waxed 

127 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

more  and  more  difficult,  with  occasional  cross  canyons 
and  frequent  ridges  of  red  and  of  white  sand-stone  in 
terrupting.  Some  of  these  ridges  and  buttes  were  fan 
tastic,  looking  like  castles  and  spires  and  lighthouses. 
Oliver  enjoyed  the  ride,  but  the  obstructions  only 
vexed  Ike  and  the  others.  At  a  point  whence  a  good 
view  was  given  up  the  river  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
they  dismounted,  and  seated  themselves,  and  lighted 
their  pipes. 

"Hyar's  far  enough,"  declared  Ike.  "We  can 
catch  'em  if  they  come  floating  past.  They  haven't  any 
business  down  in  thar  anyhow." 

Oliver  lingered  a  minute ;  but  this  sitting  here  was 
rather  stupid. 

"  I'm  going  on,"  he  announced. 

"  Wall,"  grunted  Ike.  "  'Twon't  do  you  any  good. 
Vender's  the  Fiery  Narrows.  If  they  air  wrecked  in 
thar  you  can't  get  at  'em,  an'  if  they  ain't  wrecked  in 
thar  they'll  come  out." 

Oliver  rode  along.  He  wanted  to  see  those  Fiery 
Narrows  for  himself. 

The  broken  country  forced  him  out  and  back  from 
the  river;  and  when  he  came  in  again  he  judged,  from 
the  roaring  sound,  that  he  must  be  at  the  Fiery  Nar 
rows.  The  river  here  swirled  wildly  through  between 
reddish  walls  a  hundred  and  more  yards  high.  Slip 
ping  from  the  saddle  and  cautiously  approaching  the 
best  and  firmest  spot,  holding  his  horse  by  the  lines 
Oliver  craned  his  neck  to  peep  in.  The  sight  almost 

128 


THE  VOYAGING  OF  THE  PLATTE 

made  him  dizzy.  Glancing  about  from  side  to  side  he 
thought  that  he  espied  a  trail.  Down  he  clambered, 
rifle  in  hand. 

The  depths  of  the  Fiery  Narrows  were  a  terrify 
ing  place  for  a  landsman.  The  Platte,  coffee-color  and 
heavy  with  sediment,  fairly  boiled  through,  without 
beginning  and  without  end ;  its  current  dashed  in  foam 
against  up-sticking  rocks,  and  spun  from  projecting 
shoulders;  surely  no  boat  of  any  kind  could  live  in  such 
an  angered  turmoil ! 

Suddenly  Oliver  witnessed  an  astonishing  spectacle. 
As  his  eyes  shifted  from  the  opposite  shore  (which 
rose  not  so  sheer,  although  still  steep  and  high)  to 
scan  up-stream,  they  encountered  a  dark  object  speed 
ing  down  upon  the  current.  It  was  the  Fremont  boat 
— the  rubber  boat!  And  hurrah — the  crew  were 
aboard ;  all  were  safe ! 

One  man  was  kneeling  in  the  bows,  with  paddle,  to 
turn  the  boat  quickly ;  the  others  were  ranged,  paddles 
in  hands,  along  the  sides ;  now  and  then  they  dug  hard 
with  their  blades,  to  keep  the  craft  bows  on  with  the 
current  or  to  dodge  a  rock;  but  they  came  gallantly, 
and  as  they  came,  they  appeared  to  be  singing.  How 
fast  they  sped !  Maybe  they  would  make  it. 

Lieutenant  Fremont  was  plainly  visible;  so  was 
Mr.  Preuss.  Basil  Lajeunesse  was  the  one  in  the 
bows.  He  was  wet;  they  all  were  wet,  as  if  they  had 
capsized,  already.  Of  course  something  had  happened 
to  them,  for  they  were  late. 
9  129 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Then,  in  an  instant,  something  did  happen.  Just 
ahead  of  the  boat  was  a  little  fall,  where  the  current 
plunged  over  a  ledge.  It  seemed  to  Oliver  that  the 
boat  could  leap  this;  he  wondered  if  the  crew  saw  it, 
before  them ;  but  he  could  do  nothing,  by  voice  or  gest 
ure,  to  warn  them.  He  held  his  breath,  watching.  Out 
into  the  fall  sprang  the  boat;  but  it  did  not  clear — it 
toppled  head-first,  and  spilling  crew  and  baggage  right 
and  left  it  reappeared  bottom-up ! 

As  it  came  whirling  down,  helpless  and  inert, 
heads  broke  up  around  it.  Lieutenant  Fremont  bobbed 
to  the  surface;  he  rose  to  his  shoulders,  as  he  swam, 
battling  the  current  and  looking  for  his  men.  Twice 
he  was  shunted  from  a  sharp  rock;  and  now  he  gave 
up  and  struck  out  lustily  for  the  shore.  He  landed, 
and  landed  below  him  Mr.  Preuss. 

Now  the  boat  had  lodged  against  the  Oliver  side  of 
the  canyon,  where  a  rock  shoulder  out- jutted.  Basil 
Lajeunesse  had  clambered  upon  the  upturned  bottom, 
which  looked  like  a  huge  turtle  shell,  and  reaching  he 
grabbed  somebody  by  the  hair.  It  was  Joseph  Desco- 
teaux.  Oliver  heard  what  they  said ;  they  were  only  a 
few  yards  above  him,  and  the  words  drifted  along  the 
canyon  wall.  He  had  picked  up  a  smattering  of  French 
at  Taos,  where  Kit  Carson  and  others  spoke  it  as  well 
as  Spanish. 

"  Lache  pas/'  gasped  Joseph ;  "  lache  pas,  cher 
frere!  "  ("  Loose  not,  loose  not,  dear  brother!  ") 

"  Grains  pas,"  panted  Basil,  sturdily.     "Je  m'  en 

130 


AS    THE     BOAT    CAME     WHIRLING     DOWN,     HELPLESS    AND    INERT, 
HEADS   BROKE   UP   AROUND   IT 


THE  VOYAGING  OF  THE  PLATTE 

vais  mourir  avant  que  de  te  lacher!"  ("Fear  not. 
I'll  die  before  I'll  let  you  go!  ") 

That  was  a  brave  answer. 

Basil  hauled  Joseph  upon  the  boat-bottom.  In  one 
hand  Joseph  clutched  a  double-barrel  gun,  which  was 
Lieutenant  Fremont's.  And  now,  dripping,  out  upon 
a  narrow  strip  of  sand  bordering  the  current,  below, 
and  where  Oliver  stood,  crawled  Clement  Lambert, 
Leonard  Benoit  and  Honore  Ayot,  so  that  all  the  crew 
were  accounted  for. 

However,  there  was  no  time  for  exchange  of  sym 
pathy.  Down  with  a  rush  came  the  wreckage — 
blankets  and  boxes  and  record-books  and  pieces  of 
clothing,  and  even  the  iron  instruments;  for  so  heavy 
was  the  water  and  so  rapid  was  the  current  that  the 
instruments  had  not  yet  sunk. 

"  Quick !  "  bade  Clement.     "  Vite !    Arretez-les !  " 

And  he  began  to  wade  and  grasp.  From  across  the 
stream  the  lieutenant  and  Mr.  Preuss,  encouraging 
by  gestures,  also  were  rescuing  the  property.  With  a 
plunge  Oliver  seized  a  long  black  box  which  he  knew 
contained  the  telescope,  but  the  current  almost  over 
threw  him,  and  it  whisked  the  box  from  his  fingers. 

Only  a  few  of  the  things  could  be  stopped;  at  last 
the  lieutenant,  with  a  gesture  in  sign-language,  said 
that  he  and  Mr.  Preuss  would  continue  on  down-river 
along  their  edge,  which  was  the  left  bank  of  the  river, 
and  that  the  others  should  continue  on  down  by  their 
edge  which  was  the  right  bank.  But  Basil  Lajeunesse, 

131 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

the  boat  having  been  turned  over  again,  boldly  em 
barked,  with  a  paddle,  and  took  to  the  current. 

"  Hello,"  remarked  Joseph  Descoteaux  to  Oliver, 
now  that  there  was  time  for  greeting.  "  You  saw 
us,  n'  est-ce-pas?  Ma  foi,  but  I  was  drowned  if  Basil 
had  not  held  tight." 

"  That  Basil,  he  is  a  water-rat ;  he  is  a  beaver," 
pronounced  Honore  Ayot.  "  We  nearly  were  wrecked 
above,  too,  when  the  boat  stuck  fast  and  the  water 
flowed  right  over  us.  After  that  we  would  have 
driven  the  boat  by  a  rope  paid  out  from  on  shore; 
but  Basil  was  jerked  in  like  a  fish,  and  all  you  could 
see  was  his  head  like  head  of  swimming  beaver,  as  he 
was  carried  on  down.  Before  he  had  caught  up  with 
the  boat  he  had  swum  a  half  a  mile." 

"  Yes,  that  is  what  he  said  when  the  lieutenant 
hauled  him  aboard.  *  Ugh ! '  said  Basil.  '  Je  crois 
bien  que  j'  ai  nage  un  demi  mile — I  verily  believe  that 
I  have  swum  a  half  a  mile ! ' 

They  all  continued  along  the  water's  edge,  in  the 
canyon;  clambering  and  wading  and  looking  for 
articles  from  the  wreck.  A  few  record  books  were 
picked  out;  that  was  about  the  extent  of  the  salvage. 
Across,  the  lieutenant  and  Mr.  Preuss  were  likewise 
seeking. 

"  I'll  go  back  and  climb  out  and  make  for  camp, 
to  tell  'em  you're  coming,"  proposed  Oliver. 

So  he  did.  He  found  in  camp  his  own  squad,  and 
Kit  Carson's  squad,  arrived  ahead  of  him,  they  having 

132 


THE  VOYAGING  OF  THE  PLATTE 

seen  nothing  from  the  rim.  Fires  were  built  up,  and 
more  meat  was  cut,  in  readiness.  Late  in  the  afternoon 
Basil  and  Clement,  Ayot  and  Descoteaux  toiled  in, 
afoot,  over  the  pudding-stone  ridge  and  down  to  the 
island.  They  had  abandoned  the  boat  at  a  narrow 
place  where  it  would  not  pass  through,  and  Benoit  had 
left  to  join  the  lieutenant. 

At  sunset  the  lieutenant  and  Mr.  Preuss  and  Benoit 
appeared,  descending  from  the  same  ridge;  they  had 
waded  the  river  to  cut  across  some  bends.  And  right 
glad  were  all  the  voyagers  to  have  the  hot  fires  and 
the  roasting  meat  awaiting  them. 

"  Told  you  you  couldn't  get  through  with  that  thar 
boat,"  reminded  Kit  Carson,  mildly,  to  the  lieutenant. 

"  Well,"  responded  Lieutenant  Fremont,  "  we  were 
under  instruction  to  survey  the  Platte,  and  I  felt  that 
we  should  obey  them  to  the  fullest  scope.  We  did  our 
best." 

The  lieutenant  had  only  one  moccasin,  and  his  feet 
were  prickly  with  cactus  spines ;  but  the  next  morning 
he  seemed  to  be  well  recovered.  Basil  was  sent  up  to 
the  foot  of  the  Narrows,  to  bring  down  the  few  other 
articles  that  had  been  rescued  and  left  there.  They 
did  not  amount  to  much.  All  the  instruments  but  the 
sextant  were  lost.  However,  the  saving  of  the  record 
books  was  good  fortune,  and  the  instruments  had  per 
formed  their  principal  work. 

Now  Fort  Laramie  was  near.  The  next  day  Cache 
Camp  was  reached,  and  the  carts  and  other  property 

133 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

which  had  been  left  there  in  hiding  a  month  almost  to 
a  day  were  found  undisturbed.  With  mules  hitched 
to  the  carts  again  the  expedition  might  victoriously 
trundle  on  for  Fort  Laramie.  The  Black  Hills  loomed 
nearer,  on  either  hand ;  and  with  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
in  the  advance  the  cavalcade  on  August  31  emerged 
from  that  little  defile  which  afforded  the  first,  as  it  had 
afforded  the  last,  glimpse  of  the  post. 

From  the  parapet  of  the  post  burst  a  puff  of  white 
smoke ;  and  following,  echoed  a  dull  "  Boom !  "  The 
post  must  have  seen  the  flag.  "  Boom !  Boom !  " 
saluted  the  single  brass  cannon,  as  on  marched  the 
cavalcade ;  presently  smaller  puffs  of  smoke  welled  out, 
from  beside  the  post  walls;  that  was  rifles.  Two 
figures  came  galloping.  They  were  Henry  and 
Randolph. 

"  You  said  forty  days — you  said  that  you'd  be  back 
in  forty  days,"  they  proclaimed.  "  This  is  the  forty- 
second.  We've  been  watching  for  two  days.  The 
Indians  have  been  watching,  too,  and  the  minute  you 
left  the  mouth  of  the  valley  they  saw  you  and  recog 
nized  the  flag.  Hear  the  cannon  ?  " 

"Crack!  Crack!  Whang!"  answered  the  expedi 
tion's  rifles,  to  the  welcome  by  the  fort ;  and  the  garri 
son  rushed  out,  with  glad  tongue  and  friendly  hand. 


X 

FREMONT  CALLS  AGAIN 


THUS  into  that  post  of  Fort  Laramie  which  they 
outward-bound  had  left  on  July  21,  now  on  August  31 
they  inward-bound  rode  again,  triumphant.  Nothing 
in  particular  had  occurred  here;  'twas  they  who 
brought  the  main  news — of  a  South  Pass  surveyed  and 
a  highest  peak  christened  and  a  Platte  River  boldly 
penetrated. 

"  And  all  we  did  was  to  wind  an  old  chronometer !  " 
complained  Randolph,  disgustedly.  "  But  I  suppose 
we  had  to." 

The  day  after  the  arrival  at  the  fort  the  Taos  men, 
including  Kit  Carson  and  Lucien  Maxwell,  started  for 
home,  southward ;  the  Fremont  party  were  to  continue 
on,  eastward,  down  the  Platte,  by  the  Oregon  Trail, 
for  Missouri ;  but  at  the  parting  it  was  understood  that 
the  next  spring,  after  the  lieutenant  had  made  his 
report  to  the  government,  he  was  coming  out  with 
another  expedition  to  explore  along  the  Oregon  Trail 
west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  the  Columbia  River, 
and  that  he  would  want  Kit  Carson  again. 

Down  to  old  Taos  rode  the  Carson  trappers,  home 
bent;  and  home  they  were,  ere  the  middle  of  Septem 
ber.  Taos  was  glad  to  see  them  and  to  hear  their  tales. 

135 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Sol  Silver  and  his  party  were  still  out,  of  course,  to 
remain  until  the  fall  fur  hunt.  There  was  the  fall  fur 
hunt  for  all,  and  the  fall  buffalo  hunt  to  supply  Bent's 
Fort  with  winter  meat.  Then  might  the  Carson  men 
settle  to  a  winter  at  Taos. 

It  proved  to  be  a  cold  and  snowy  winter ;  but  right 
in  the  midst  of  it,  or  about  Christmas  time,  arrived 
excitement:  three  strangers,  ragged  and  frost-bitten 
and  weary,  reduced  almost  to  eating  their  buckskin 
clothing.  A  squad  of  Taos  trappers  brought  them  in 
from  camp  in  the  mountains. 

One  of  the  visitors  was  a  half-breed  guide  from  the 
trading  post  of  Fort  Uncompahgre,  across  near  to  the 
Grand  River.  Another  was  a  tall,  lean,  roughly 
bearded  man,  with  hair  peculiarly  marked  in  white  and 
brown,  deeply-set  dark-blue  eyes  and  large  mouth. 
This  was  Dr.  Marcus  Whitman.  The  third  was  also  a 
bearded  man,  broad-shouldered,  light-blue  eyed,  with 
high  forehead  and  calm  mien.  This  was  Mr.  A.  L. 
Love  joy. 

Dr.  Whitman  was  a  missionary  doctor ;  he  had  been 
at  the  Green  River  trapper  rendezvous  in  1835,  on  his 
way  west;  and  in  1836  he  had  led  a  party  of  mission 
aries  including  his  bride  and  another  woman  (first 
white  women  to  cross  the  Rockies,  they)  from  the  Mis 
souri  to  the  mission  settlements  of  Oregon.  Mr.  Love- 
joy  had  been  among  those  American  colonists  who  last 
spring,  under  Sub- Indian  Agent  Dr.  White,  had  made 

136 


FREMONT  CALLS  AGAIN 

the  wagon-wheel  tracks  seen  by  the  Fremont  company, 
up  the  Platte  and  the  Sweetwater,  over  the  South  Pass, 
and  on. 

Now  upon  desperate  mid- winter  journey  across 
continent  from  coast  to  coast  was  hurrying  Dr.  Whit 
man,  with  his  brave  companions,  to  appeal  for  more 
Americans  in  Oregon  where  the  British  also  claimed 
the  country.  The  little  party  had  cut  south,  from 
Fort  Uintah  of  present  northeastern  Utah,  down 
through  the  mountains  of  present  central  Colorado, 
aiming  for  Santa  Fe  and  for  Taos,  to  evade  the  plains 
Indians  and  the  deep  snows.  But  the  latter  they  had 
not  evaded,  and  they  nearly  had  perished  miserably. 
Once  they  had  swum,  horses  and  all,  an  ice-encrusted 
river.  And  they  had  been  obliged  to  kill  their  faithful 
dog  and  eat  him. 

Dr.  Whitman  and  Mr.  Lovejoy  had  left  the  mission 
headquarters  on  the  Columbia  October  3 ;  now  it  was 
the  middle  of  December;  after  a  couple  of  weeks'  stay 
at  Taos,  to  gain  strength,  they  pushed  on,  for  Bent's 
Fort  and  the  Santa  Fe  trail  to  Missouri. 

The  next  event  at  Taos  was  the  marriage  of  Kit 
Carson,  on  February  of  this  new  year  1843,  to  the 
Senorita  Josefa  Jaramillo,  only  sixteen,  much  younger 
than  he.  An  exceedingly  handsome  girl  was  the 
Senorita  Josefa,  with  clear  creamy  skin  and  great 
black  eyes  and  dazzling  teeth.  The  occasion  was  cele 
brated  by  a  series  of  feasts  and  dances  which  lasted 
through  several  days  and  nights.  At  the  close  every- 

137 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

body  was  worn  out,  so  popular  were  Kit  and  his  girlish 
bride. 

In  March  Sol  Silver  took  a  party  of  trappers  upon 
the  regulation  beaver  hunt.  The  other  Carson  men 
remained  in  Taos,  waiting. 

"  Wall,  boy,"  remarked  Kit,  to  Oliver,  when  the 
members  of  the  Silver  party  were  being  told  off, 
"  which  would  you  rather  do — go  up  among  the  Black- 
feet,  with  Sol,  or  out  among  the  Chinooks,  with 
Fremont  ?  " 

"  Fremont,  and  you,"  promptly  answered  Oliver ; 
and  Kit  Carson  laughed. 

"  You're  liable  to  find  it  the  hard  trail  o'  the  two," 
he  commented,  dryly. 

The  spring  waxed  and  waned,  and  came  no  word 
from  Lieutenant  Fremont,  save  the  word  that  his  re 
port  had  been  made  to  Congress,  had  spoken  well  of 
the  Indian  Country  and  of  the  trail  through  it,  and 
that  there  was  much  talk  of  a  big  emigration,  over  the 
trail,  this  year,  for  Oregon. 

Finally,  about  the  middle  of  June,  arrived  a  mes 
sage  from  Kansas  Landing,  on  the  Missouri  frontier, 
that  the  second  exploring  expedition  of  Lieutenant 
John  Charles  Fremont  had  started,  and  that  the  rendez 
vous  was  to  be  Fort  St.  Vrain.  "  White  Head,"  or 
Thomas  Fitzpatrick  the  famous  mountain-man,  was 
the  guide,  and  Lucien  Maxwell  was  accompanying  as 
far  as  St.  Vrain,  on  his  way  to  Taos. 

It  did  not  take  long  for  the  Carson  party  to  mount 

138 


FREMONT  CALLS  AGAIN 

and  ride  for  Bent's,  thence  to  proceed  on  northward 
for  St.  Vrain,  200  miles.  But  at  Bent's  was  it  learned 
that  Lucien  Maxwell  had  hastened  south,  from  St. 
Vrain,  to  obtain  mules  in  Taos,  for  the  lieutenant; 
and  that  the  lieutenant  and  a  party  were  following, 
along  the  foothills,  to  meet  the  mules. 

Now,  at  this  time  Texas  was  striving  to  be  free 
from  all  claims  of  Mexico,  and  armed  Texans  had 
been  invading  New  Mexico  and  threatening  Santa  Fe 
and  Santa  Fe  caravans.  This  had  caused  the  Mexican 
government  to  forbid  intercourse  back  and  forth  across 
the  border  between  New  Mexico  and  foreigners;  and 
the  chance  that  Lieutenant  Fremont  might  secure  mules 
from  Taos  was  slim.  At  Bent's  Kit  Carson  himself 
turned  off,  up  the  Arkansas,  to  meet  the  lieutenant  and 
to  warn  him  of  conditions. 

He  met  him  at  the  little  settlement  of  the  Pueblo, 
about  seventy  miles  from  the  post.  The  town  is  to-day 
Pueblo,  Colorado.  Lieutenant  Fremont  immediately 
sent  Kit  back  to  Bent's,  with  a  request  that  the  fort 
supply  some  mules,  if  possible. 

Meanwhile  the  Carson  men,  under  Ike  Chamber 
lain,  rode  on  to  St.  Vrain. 

Fort  St.  Vrain  was  situated  opposite  where  the 
St.  Vrain  creek  empties  into  the  South  Platte  River, 
not  far  from  the  present  Colorado  town  of  Greeley. 
It  was  built  of  adobe  clay  bricks,  and  was  commanded 
by  Mr.  Marcelin  St.  Vrain,  younger  brother  of  the 
Ceran  St.  Vrain  who  formed  one  in  the  partnership 

139 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Bent,  St.  Vrain  &  Co.,  of  the  Santa  Fe  Trail.  A  slim, 
boyish  man  was  Marcelin  St.  Vrain,  with  black  hair, 
black  eyes  and  black  whiskers.  His  wife  was  a  Sioux 
girl. 

The  fort  was  out  on  the  plains,  a  short  distance 
from  the  foothills.  Here  awaiting  the  return  of  the 
lieutenant  from  his  side  trip  up  the  South  Platte  and 
down  to  the  Arkansas  was  Thomas  Fitzpatrick  with  a 
detachment  of  twenty-five  of  the  Fremont  men. 

A  ruddy-faced,  rather  heavy-set  man  was  Thomas 
Fitzpatrick,  with  thick  hair  turned  snow  white  and 
with  his  left  hand  crippled.  A  severe  adventure,  in  the 
summer  of  1832,  with  Blackfeet  Indians  who  had 
chased  him  and  forced  him  to  hide  in  a  cave  for  three 
days,  had  whitened  his  hair;  and  the  bursting  of  his 
rifle  had  crippled  his  hand.  The  Indians  called  him 
not  only  "  White  Head  "  but  also  "  Bad  Hand  "  and 
"  Broken  Hand." 

He  and  Ike  and  the  other  Taos  trappers  greeted 
each  other  tumultuously,  for  all  knew  and  respected 
Thomas  Fitzpatrick. 

Fitzpatrick  had  brought  the  wagons  and  the  heavy 
baggage.  He  was  waiting  and  resting  the  animals. 
Lieutenant  Fremont  had  taken  one  light  wagon,  and  a 
cannon — a  brass  twelve-pounder ;  for  this  second  expe 
dition  was  armed  with  a  field-piece,  to  be  used  if  the 
Indians  grew  too  bold. 

About  this  cannon  centred  much  of  the  post  gos 
sip.  Some  of  the  rumors  said  that  the  cannon  was  to 

140 


FREMONT  CALLS  AGAIN 

be  used  to  conquer  Oregon  from  the  British ;  some  said 
that  it  was  to  be  used  to  seize  California  from  the  Mexi 
cans;  nobody  knew  exactly  what  the  plans  were,  save 
that  the  trail  was  to  lead  across  the  mountains,  and 
west  by  the  Snake  to  the  Columbia,  surveying  the  over 
land  route  until  it  connected  with  the  survey  north  and 
south  along  the  Pacific  Coast  in  California  and  Oregon, 
made  by  Lieutenant  Charles  Wilkes  of  the  Navy  in 
1841. 

To  operate  the  cannon  piece  the  lieutenant  had 
engaged  at  St.  Louis  a  regular  cannoneer,  by  name  of 
Zindel — Louis  Zindel,  who  had  been  a  non-commis 
sioned  officer  of  artillery  in  the  Prussian  army.  Be 
sides,  in  the  company  was  a  young  negro  man,  named 
Jacob  Dodson,  not  a  slave,  but  free  born,  although  in 
service  to  the  family  of  Senator  Benton,  the  lieuten 
ant's  father-in-law ;  two  greenhorns,  Mr.  Theodore  Tal- 
bot,  government  draughtsman  of  Washington,  and  Mr. 
Frederick  Dwight,  of  Springfield,  Massachusetts,  who 
was  making  a  tour  to  the  Sandwich  Islands  by  way  of 
Vancouver;  Mr.  William  Gilpin,  also  for  Vancouver; 
and  two  Delaware  Indians,  old  man  and  son.  Then, 
here  at  St.  Vrain,  in  the  Fitzpatrick  company,  were 
two  comrades  of  the  1842  expedition :  Alexis  Ayot  and 
Baptiste  Bernier,  whom  Oliver  was  glad  to  see.  Five 
other  members  of  the  first  expedition — Mr.  Preuss,  the 
bristly-headed  German  scientist,  Basil  Lajeunesse  the 
fearless  voyageur,  Louis  Menard  (a  cousin  of  Max- 

141 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

well),  FranQois  Badeau  and  Raphael  Proue — were 
south  with  the  lieutenant. 

Consequently,  although  Oliver  felt  somewhat  dis 
appointed  that  Henry  Brandt  and  Randolph  Benton 
were  not  to  be  along,  he  foresaw,  by  the  preparations 
and  by  the  make-up  of  the  company,  that  it  was  going 
to  be  a  tremendous  trip. 

A  few  days  later,  in  rode  Kit  Carson  with  ten  fine 
mules  from  Bent's  Fort;  and  on  the  morning  of  July  23 
in  rode  the  lieutenant  and  party,  including  Jacob  Dod- 
son  the  negro  youth,  and  Sergeant  Zindel  the  artiller 
ist,  and  Mr.  Preuss,  and  Basil  Lajeunesse.  Lucien 
Maxwell  was  not  with  them.  He  had  not  come  back 
from  his  trip  after  mules  at  Taos. 

The  lieutenant  had  left  word  at  the  Pueblo  that  he 
would  wait  at  St.  Vrain  until  the  morning  of  the 
twenty-sixth.  The  morning  of  the  twenty-sixth 
dawned,  and  no  Maxwell  had  appeared.  Evidently 
he  was  not  coming.  So  the  lieutenant  ordered  "  Catch 
up !  "  and  the  company  bustled  for  the  start.  At  this 
moment  arose  a  new  complication.  Lieutenant  Fre 
mont  had  decided  that  he  ought  to  find  a  short  cut 
from  St.  Vrain's  Fort  across  the  mountains  to  strike 
the  Oregon  Trail  somewhere  near  the  South  Pass, 
instead  of  travelling  up  to  Fort  Laramie  and  then 
turning  west  for  the  Pass.  Nobody  at  St.  Vrain's 
could  tell  him  of  any  trail  except  a  danger-trail  used 
mainly  by  hostile  Indians.  Such  a  trail  did  traverse 
northwest,  to  the  Sweetwater;  but  it  was  being  given 

142 


FREMONT  CALLS  AGAIN 


over  to  the  Plains  Indians  when  they  raided  the  Utes 
and  the  Snakes,  and  to  the  Crows  when  they  raided 
the  Plains  Indians,  and  only  recently  several  trappers 
had  been  killed  on  it. 

Thereupon,  hearing  the  plans,  the  two  Delawares 
announced  that  the  mountains  looked  cold  to  them,  the 
trail  was  beset  with  their  enemies,  they  were  far  from 
their  own  people,  and  they  were  going  home. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Lieutenant  Fremont.  "  Let 
them  go.  We  want  only  men.  But  we  must  find  an 
other  hunter  or  two,  to  take  their  places." 

"  Godey'll  sign  up/'  advised  Fitzpatrick.  "  You  get 
him  and  you'll  have  somebody  almost  as  good  as  Kit." 

Alexander  Godey  was  a  young  French  trapper  and 
trader  at  the  post.  Everyone  seemed  to  like  him ;  and 
although  he  put  considerable  time  upon  his  long,  wavy 
black  hair,  brushing  it  and  dressing  it  with  Indian  care, 
none  ventured  to  twit  him  about  it.  He  was  not  a  man 
to  be  twitted. 

"  How  about  him,  Kit  ?  "  asked  the  lieutenant. 

"  A  fine  fellow,"  assured  Kit,  generously.  "  I  don't 
know  a  better.  Take  him.'' 

Whereupon  Godey  of  the  silky  locks  was  engaged. 

The  Snake  widow  of  a  French  trapper  who  had 
been  shot  in  a  Fourth  of  July  celebration  at  the  fort 
asked  the  lieutenant  if  she  might  not  journey  with  the 
expedition  as  far  as  the  Bear  River,  beyond  the  Green, 
so  that  she  could  join  her  own  people;  and  she  was 
accepted,  and  given  a  small  tent. 

143 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

The  expedition  made  an  imposing  sight.  The  Fre 
mont  party  numbered  some  forty  men,  as  against  the 
twenty-five  of  the  previous  year.  The  Carson  party 
were  fifteen.  The  Fremont  men  were  armed  with  Hall 
flint-lock  breech-loading  rifles,  which  had  been  adopted 
by  the  army  and  were  thought  to  be  a  fine  gun ;  but  the 
Carson  men  were  better  armed,  with  percussion-cap 
rifles,  and  with  Colt  revolving  pistols.  Besides  the 
brass  twelve-pounder,  there  was  a  baggage  train  of 
twelve  two-wheeled  carts  and  a  light  spring-wagon  for 
the  instruments,  and  six  pack-horses  loaded  with  the 
Snake  squaw's  household  goods. 

This  was  altogether  too  large  an  outfit  with  which 
to  thread  the  danger-trail  of  the  short-cut.  Therefore 
Fitzpatrick  the  Bad  Hand  was  directed  to  take  the  bag 
gage  train  and  about  twenty-five  of  the  men,  and 
proceed  by  the  customary  trail  from  St.  Vrain's  Fort 
up  to  Fort  Laramie ;  thence  by  the  Oregon  Trail  west 
over  the  South  Pass  and  on  to  the  British  Hudson  Bay 
Company  post  of  Fort  Hall.  The  lieutenant  and  Kit 
Carson  would  take  the  rest  of  the  company  through  by 
the  short  cut,  and  meet  him  at  Fort  Hall. 

For  his  party  the  lieutenant  chose  Kit,  and  Charles 
Preuss  the  bristly-headed  German,  and  Jacob  Dodson 
the  young  colored  man,  and  Louis  Zindel  the  Prussian 
artillerist,  Basil  Lajeunesse  and  his  brother  Francois 
Lajeunesse,  Baptiste  Bernier,  Louis  Menard,  Raphael 
Proue,  Baptiste  Deroiser,  Francois  Badeau,  Auguste 
Vasquez  a  Spanish  Creole,  and  Henry  Lee.  The  Snake 

144 


FREMONT  CALLS  AGAIN 

woman  with  her  six  packs  (atop  of  one  her  two  black- 
eyed,  pretty  little  children)  accompanied;  and  there 
were  the  Carson  men. 

The  course  from  St.  Vrain's  fort  was  northwest 
erly,  across  a  rolling  country.  On  the  third  day 
William  New  announced,  to  Oliver  his  partner : 

"  Thar  she  air." 

"What?" 

"  The  Cache-a-la-Poudre,  or  Hide-the-Powder 
Creek.  We  follow  her  up,  I  reckon,  into  the  moun 
tains.  Know  why  she  has  that  name  ?  " 

"  Trapper  name,"  hazarded  Oliver. 

"  Right.  Thar  war  some  Frenchmen  hyar'bouts 
on  the  creek,  five  or  ten  year  ago.  Injuns  got  after 
'em,  an'  they  cached  their  powder  under-ground,  so's 
to  save  it.  Don't  know  whether  they  ever  found  it 
ag'in  or  not,  but  they  always  referred  to  the  creek  as 
their  '  Hide-the-Powder '  creek,  an'  the  name  stuck." 

The  cavalcade  turned  up  the  creek,  in  the  rain,  and 
entered  among  rugged,  lofty  mountains,  their  wild 
ravines  and  steep  slopes  thickly  covered  with  brush 
and  flowers.  The  Cache-a-la-Poudre  was  crooked,  and 
must  be  crossed  and  recrossed ;  the  gun-carriage,  over 
seen  by  the  anxious  Sergeant  Zindel,  and  the  spring 
wagon  with  its  precious  instruments,  were  hauled 
through  each  time. 

Thus  was  traversed  first  by  explorers  and  map- 
makers  the  Overland  Stage  Route  from  Denver  to 
Salt  Lake. 

10  145 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

From  the  head  of  the  Cache-a-la-Poudre  they  all 
passed  over  a  ridge  to  the  Laramie  River  side  of  the 
divide  here;  loomed  high,  bare  and  snowy  on  the  west, 
the  mighty  Medicine  Bow  Mountains,  which  they  must 
go  around,  and  now  they  encountered  a  wide  Indian 
trail  and  sign  of  Indian  travel  upon  it. 


XI 
IN  HOSTILE  TERRITORY 


So  far  the  only  traces  of  travel  preceding  had 
been  those  of  Indian  travel.  This  afternoon  who 
should  appear  upon  the  trail  but  a  large  red  ox !  Had 
he  been  an  elephant  he  would  have  created  no  keener 
interest,  and  both  the  Fremont  party  and  the  Carson 
party  collected  about  him. 

"  Ma  foi !  "  exclaimed  Frangois  Badeau.  "  Mebbe 
we  back  in  Missouri,  hey  ?  " 

"  That's  shuah  a  big  fine  ox,"  commented  Jacob 
Dodson.  "  Guess  some  o'  those  emigrants  we  saw  at 
Kansas  Landing  are  ahead  of  us." 

"  Not  very  close,  Jacob,"  answered  the  lieutenant. 
"  The  Oregon  Trail  is  a  hundred  and  more  miles 
north,  yet." 

"  Seems  to  me  this  ox  must  have  cut  loose  from  his 
party  at  the  Green,  an'  he's  making  a  short  cut  back 
through  the  hills,  for  Missouri,"  decided  Kit  Carson. 

With  their  red  ox  in  charge  the  expedition  pro 
ceeded.  It  seemed  to  Oliver  rather  mean  to  turn  the 
brave  animal  about  and  make  him  retrace  his  trail; 
but  in  the  morning  he  could  not  be  found,  and  the 
lieutenant  ordered  the  men  not  to  look  for  him. 

147 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"Fact  is,"  declared  the  lieutenant,  to  Kit,  "I'm 
glad  he  got  away.  He's  won  his  life,  so  far  as  we're 
concerned.  I'd  rather  starve  a  while  than  kill  the  old 
fellow  and  eat  him." 

"  Wall,"  drawled  Kit,  "  we'll  see  if  we  can't  do  bet 
ter  than  pore  beef." 

Whereupon,  as  if  in  reward,  that  evening  he 
brought  into  camp  a  buffalo  cow  whose  fat  was  two 
inches  thick:  the  finest  buffalo,  asserted  every  man, 
that  he  ever  had  tasted. 

To  date  the  march  had  been  not  hard,  and  not  un 
pleasant.  The  gun-carriage  and  the  spring-wagon  had 
come  through  without  mishap.  However,  this  next 
evening  occurred  the  first  accident,  when,  the  company 
having  crossed  the  North  Platte  River  to  the  north  of 
the  Bull  Pen  or  New  Park,  they  were  caught  by  the 
gathering  dusk  in  a  deep  ravine,  where  grew  sage  six 
feet  high.  Both  lamps  of  the  spring  wagon  were 
knocked  off,  a  thermometer  was  broken,  and  finally, 
at  ten  o'clock,  camp  was  pitched  in  the  dark.  Supper 
was  at  midnight.  Some  of  the  men,  who  were  out 
hunting  buffalo,  did  not  get  in  at  all. 

When  they  did  come,  in  the  morning,  they  brought 
much  meat,  and  the  lieutenant  and  Kit  agreed  that  it 
would  be  wise  to  dry  this  meat,  for  a  store  against 
future  need.  There  would  be  few  buffalo,  on  the 
Pacific  side  of  the  Rockies. 

Camp  was  moved  down  the  ravine,  to  a  cotton- 
wood  grove  in  a  grassy  little  bottom-land  upon  the 

148 


IN  HOSTILE  TERRITORY 

bank  of  the  Platte.  In  this  open  place  between  the 
river  and  the  bluffs,  pole  frame-works  were  erected, 
on  which  to  hang  the  strips  of  buffalo  meat,  above 
fires,  to  dry. 

Louis  Menard  was  horse-guard.  Fortunately,  he 
had  a  quick  eye,  had  Louis — and  on  a  sudden  the  busy 
camp,  with  all  hands  at  work  "  making  meat,"  was 
startled  by  his  loud  shout,  the  "  Whang!  "  of  his  Hall's 
carbine,  and  the  tumultuous  thud  of  hoofs  as  he  raced 
his  herd  for  the  grove. 

"  Injuns !  Des  sauvages !  "  he  yelled,  pointing  over 
his  shoulder. 

True  enough.  Down  from  the  bluffs  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  bottom-land  were  galloping  a  score  of 
half-naked  Indians,  while  into  the  sky-line  of  the  sum 
mit  behind  them  were  pouring  many  more. 

"  To  the  grove !  To  the  grove !  "  cried  French  and 
Americans,  Fremont  and  Carson  men. 

"  The  cannon !  "  ordered  Sergeant  Zindel,  guttur- 
ally.  "Qvick!  Disvay!" 

All  raced,  afoot,  for  the  grove,  where  Louis  was 
driving  his  herd. 

"  R-r-round  mit  id!  "  gasped  Sergeant  Zindel. 

The  majority  of  the  voyageurs  and  trappers  in 
stantly  ranged  themselves  flat  upon  the  ground,  amidst 
the  brush,  or  crouched  behind  trees,  carbines  and  rifles 
at  a  ready.  But  the  sergeant,  and  Jacob  Dodson  the 
colored  man,  and  two  others,  remained  out  with  the 
gun,  before  the  grove.  They  were  the  cannoneers. 

149 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Lieutenant  Fremont  calmly  walked  forth,  and  stood  by. 

On  dashed  the  red  warriors — their  robes  and 
feathers  flying,  war  bonnet  and  decorated  braids 
streaming  in  the  air.  Brandishing  bow  and  lance  and 
gun  and  shield,  with  shrill  yelps  they  now  were  charg 
ing  across  the  level. 

"  Cheyenne  an'  'Rapahoe,"  muttered  William  New. 
"  Wagh !  I  wonder  if  they  know  what  they're  doing  ?  " 

Oliver  anxiously  watched  the  cannoneers.  How 
rapidly  they  worked.  Sergeant  Zindel  evidently  un 
derstood  his  business.  With  jerky  stiffness  he  bustled 
hither,  thither — but  already  the  piece  had  been  swung 
about,  to  open  down  the  bottom-land,  a  load  in  red 
flannel  bag  had  been  rammed  home,  and  Jacob  Dodson 
was  thrusting  after  it  a  case  of  canister. 

"  R-r-ready !  "  ordered  Sergeant  Zindel,  squinting 
along  the  breech,  while  Jacob  turned  the  elevating 
screw.  He  sprang  up,  blowing  a  match  or  slow-fire 
fuse.  "  Back  mit  you !  Back-vaaerts,  all !  "  And 
Jacob  and  the  two  other  helpers  recoiled,  out  of  range 
of  the  imminent  explosion. 

"  The  blame  fools !  "  muttered  William  New,  at 
the  Indians.  "  They'll  be  blown  to  smithereens. 
Wagh !  they  will !  It'll  rain  scalps." 

The  racing  reds  now  were  scarce  two  hundred 
yards  away,  charging  madly,  hammering  their  ponies' 
flanks  with  moccasined  heel,  urging  to  top  speed. 

"  Feuer ! "  shouted  stanch  Sergeant  Zindel,  sud 
denly  advancing  his  slow-match  to  touch-hole — and 

150 


IN  HOSTILE  TERRITORY 

Oliver's  eyes  leaped  to  see  the  enemy  shrivel  and  scatter. 
But 

"  Wait !  "  commanded  Lieutenant  Fremont,  spring 
ing  to  arrest  the  sergeant's  hand.  And 

"  Wait !  "  cried  Kit  Carson,  running  out,  his  hand 
high. 

For  just  at  the  instant  the  Indians,  as  if  they  had 
noted  whom  they  were  charging,  in  mid-pace  had 
hauled  their  ponies  short,  and  ploughing  up  the  sod 
had  stopped  in  a  jumbled  mass  of  wildly  tossing  riders. 

"  Just  in  time,  by  thunder,"  exclaimed  William 
New.  "  Another  minute,  an'  thar'd  'a  been  more  meat 
than  bufFler  meat  scattered  about  on  this  hyar  bottom. 
Wagh!" 

A  single  rider  had  come  forward  from  the  serried 
front  of  mounted  warriors ;  Kit  Carson  strode  right  on, 
to  meet  him,  and  hold  parley.  The  whites  in  the  grove 
might  breathe  easier. 

"Tonnerre!"  was  reciting  Louis  Menard.  "  As 
I  sat  my  horse,  out  there,  I  happened  to  glance  at  the 
bluff  and  saw  an  Injun  stick  his  head  up  over.  That 
was  the  good  fortune;  n'est-ce-pas ?  " 

The  sergeant,  and  his  cannoneers,  and  the  lieu 
tenant,  remained  in  the  open  beside  the  piece,  awaiting 
the  result  of  the  parley.  The  sergeant  occasionally 
blew  upon  his  slow-match;  and  once  he  and  Jacob 
hitched  the  gun  around  a  few  inches,  for  still  better 
aim. 

Presently  Kit  Carson  turned  back,  and  with  him 

151 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

came  two  chiefs.  The  other  Indians  followed,  slowly, 
riding  at  ease ;  and  many,  dismounting  here  and  there, 
squatted  or  strolled  about,  gradually  forming  a  semi 
circle  of  seated  forms. 

"  It's  all  right,"  announced  Ike  Chamberlain,  stand 
ing  at  ease.  "  Kit's  made  the  peace  sign.  Wall,  they 
jest  saved  their  scalps,  I  can  tell  'em." 

"  We'd  'a  bo'hd  a  thousand  holes  right  through 
'em ;  we  shuahly  would,"  declaimed  Jacob  Dodson. 

"  These  air  a  war  party  o'  Cheyennes  an'  'Rapa- 
hoes,"  explained  Kit  Carson  to  the  lieutenant.  "  They 
say  they  tuk  us  for  Crow  or  Ute  enemies — but  being  as 
they're  on  their  way  home  after  a  licking  up  north  an' 
consequently  air  feeling  ugly,  I  reckon  they  tuk  us  for 
what  they  could  get;  an'  that  warn't  much." 

"  It  would  have  been  more  if  they  hadn't  stopped 
when  they  did,"  answered  the  lieutenant.  "  I  suppose 
now  they  want  presents.  We'll  have  to  give  them  a 
little.  Can't  spare  much — and  they  don't  deserve  even 
that." 

The  chiefs  grunted  and  shook  hands  with  the  lieu 
tenant;  they  cast  curious  glances  at  the  brass  cannon, 
and  exchanged  a  guttural  comment. 

"  They  think  that's  heap  gun,"  interpreted  William 
New.  "  White  man's  medicine  strong,  they  say." 

The  uninvited  guests,  squatting  in  expectant  half- 
circle,  like  hungry  but  dignified  mastiffs,  willingly 
passed  the  pipe  of  peace  around,  and  as  willingly 
accepted  tobacco  and  scarlet  cloth  and  knives. 

152 


IN  HOSTILE  TERRITORY 

"  They've  been  up  ag'in  the  Snakes,  over  on  the 
Green  River,"  repeated  William  New,  to  Oliver,  after 
having  chatted  with  one  or  two.  "  They  surprised  a 
village  near  Jim  Bridger's  fort,  while  most  o'  the  men 
folks  were  off  on  an  antelope  surround,  an'  carried 
away  a  few  scalps  an'  a  lot  o'  hosses.  Most  the  hosses 
belonged  to  the  fort.  Wagh!  I  bet  ye  Bridger  war 
mad!  How-some-ever,  'fore  this  hyar  war  party  got 
very  fur,  with  their  plunder,  the  Snakes  overtuk  'em, 
seized  the  hosses,  killed  several  warriors  an'  wounded 
some  more.  These  Injuns  warn't  feeling  very  happy, 
coming  home  licked,  an'  they  war  on  the  ready  for 
revenge  o'  any  kind  that  happened.  Red  an'  white 
scalps  air  alike  to  Injuns  in  that  frame  o'  mind;  every 
body's  an  enemy.  But  look  at  that'ere  Snake  woman. 
She's  b'iling  under  her  blanket!  " 

Apart,  secluded  at  the  edge  of  the  grove,  with  her 
blanket  drawn  entirely  over  herself  and  two  children, 
crouched  the  Snake  widow,  motionless. 

The  band  of  Cheyennes  and  Arapahoes — two  tribes 
who  called  one  another  cousin — stayed  here  until  sun 
set  ;  then  they  rode  away ;  and  then  the  Snake  woman 
emerged  from  her  blanket,  and  glaring  after  them 
shook  her  fist,  at  these  the  enemies  of  her  people. 

That  night  double  guards  were  placed;  however, 
the  camp  slept  unmolested,  here  200  miles  from  Fort 
St.  Vrain. 

The  road  this  next  day  was  very  rough ;  and  during 
the  next  day  the  roughness  increased,  with  dense  sage, 

153 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

interminable,  blocking  the  way.  To  the  north  uplifted 
a  divide  forming  the  Sweetwater  Valley  of  the  Oregon 
Trail.  Therefore  diverging  from  the  west  into  the 
north,  and  abandoning  the  unseen  trail  over  which,  in 
less  than  a  score  of  years,  would  hasten  the  stages 
from  Denver  to  Salt  Lake,  the  Fremont  and  Carson 
men  marched  across  Great  Divide  Basin  of  southern 
Wyoming  for  the  familiar  country  of  the  Sweetwater. 
In  a  cold  rain  storm,  the  evening  of  August  9,  they 
camped  beside  the  Sweetwater  River,  about  twenty 
miles  above  the  famous  Devil's  Gate.  From  St. 
Vrain's  Fort  they  had  travelled  315  miles. 


XII 
THE  EMIGRANT  TRAIL 


To  be  beside  the  friendly  guiding  Sweetwater  was 
a  great  relief.  Now  the  South  Pass  was  only  eighty  or 
ninety  miles  west,  with  a  plain  trail  connecting.  But 
what  a  trail  this  had  become,  in  a  short  year!  So 
many  wagons  had  traversed  it — the  hoofs  of  the  oxen 
and  of  the  horses  all  pointing  west — that  the  tough 
sage-brush  had  been  crushed  flat  in  a  great,  winding 
furrow  forever  leading  onward.  Strange  was  it  to 
come  upon  such  a  trail,  in  this  wilderness  of  plain  and 
butte  more  than  a  thousand  miles  from  the  frontier. 

This  morning,  when  daylight  revealed  the  sudden 
highway,  exclamations  of  astonishment  ran  through 
the  camp  and  adown  the  column,  as  now  the  march  was 
made  so  much  easier. 

"  Wagh !  The  Snake  woman  says  it  air  the  great 
medicine  road  o'  the  whites/'  remarked  William  New. 

"  Looks  to  me  as  if  all  the  folks  in  Missouri  were 
moving  out  to  Oregon,"  called  back  Ike. 

'  You  would  think  so,  if  you  had  been  with  us  at 
the  start,"  responded  Basil  Lajeunesse,  who  was  riding 
to  chat  with  the  Carson  men.  "  Oregon  and  California 
both.  Name  of  a  dog!  Until  the  trail  forked  and  we 

155 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

turned  off  for  St.  Vrain  the  Laramie  route  was  a  string 
of  beads,  so  thick  were  wagons.  That  Doctor  Whit 
man,  he  has  stirred  people  up.  One  thousand  for  Ore 
gon — men  and  women  and  the  children — were  col 
lected  at  the  Kansas,  waiting  for  him." 

"  These  air  fresh  sign,"  quoth  Ike,  with  an  eye 
upon  the  hoof  marks  and  wheel  tracks,  and  the  freshly 
plucked  springs  where  women  and  children  must  have 
wandered,  picking  nosegays. 

"  Lieutenant  Fremont,  he  stirred  people  up,  too," 
continued  Basil,  proudly.  "  It  is  '  South  Pass/  '  South 
Pass/  everybody  talk  about  '  South  Pass/  so  easy  to 
cross.  And  the  Congress  talk,  too,  all  about  Oregon, 
and  it  say  it  will  give  to  every  American  settler  in 
Oregon  six  hundred  forty  acres  of  land  and  for  his 
child  one  hundred  sixty  acres.  I  should  like  to  go, 
myself,  but  I  do  not  know  as  my  family  like  to  go." 

"  Some'll  never  get  thar,"  grunted  William  New. 
"  Thar's  a  grave,  already.  Wonder  the  wolves  or  the 
Injuns  haven't  dug  it  open  yet.  They  will." 

The  South  Pass  was  crossed.  Still  onward  led  the 
great  trail.  Occasionally  at  camping-spot  or  elsewhere 
relics  were  to  be  noted.  Once  Oliver  found  a  ragged 
doll ;  and  was  seen  again  a  hasty  grave. 

The  Big  Sandy  creek,  at  the  foot  of  the  pass, 
where  a  year  before  the  camp  had  been  made  ere 
turning  north  to  climb  the  Peak,  was  left  behind,  and 
now  ahead  waited  new  country. 

On  August  15 — 

156 


THE  EMIGRANT  TRAIL 

"Thar's  the  Green,"  announced  Oliver's  faithful 
mentor,  William  New.  "  We're  pretty  high  in  Mexican 
territory,  too.  Some  say  it  reaches  up  this  fur,  west  o' 
the  mountains,  along  the  Rio  Verde.  Seedskeedee 
River  air  what  she's  called  by  the  Crows — which  means 
peerairie-hen  river/' 

The  river  was  about  400  yards  wide.  The  road 
forded  it  at  a  shallow  place,  and  turned  down  along  it. 
The  current  flowed  among  wooded  islands. 

That  night,  at  camp,  Lieutenant  Fremont  much 
discussed  the  river  with  Kit  Carson  and  Basil  Lajeu- 
nesse  and  Mr.  Preuss  and  others. 

"  This  must  be  the  same  as  the  Buenaventura,  or 
Good-Fortune  River  of  the  early  Spanish,"  asserted 
the  lieutenant.  "  That  is,  if  it  has  a  branch  emptying 
into  the  Pacific." 

"  Never  heard  of  any,"  answered  Kit  Carson. 
"Did  you,  Basil?" 

"  Ma  foi,  not  I,"  declared  Basil,  promptly.  "  But 
I  never  have  been  beyond,  where  lies  the  desert." 

"  Wall,  I  have,"  resumed  Kit.  "  I've  been  west 
down  the  Mary's  River  to  its  end  in  the  Sinks;  and 
I've  been  on  the  lower  end  o'  this  hyar  Green — or  what 
mout  be  this  hyar  Green,  whar  it's  called  the 
Colorado." 

"What's  below,  Kit?"  queried  the  lieutenant, 
quickly.  "  I  hear  strange  stories  of  fine  valleys  at  the 
bottoms  of  canyons  entered  by  a  secret  trail,  and  of 

157 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

wonderful  beaver  grounds  and  ancient  towns,  shut  in 
by  walls  a  mile  high." 

"  Wall,"  drawled  Kit,  "  when  I  went  out  to  Cali- 
forny  in  Twenty-nine,  with  Captain  Young,  we  struck 
the  Colorado  at  a  place  whar  the  river'd  sunk  down 
into  a  canyon  full  a  mile  deep  an'  three  mile  acrost. 
We  didn't  get  down  into  it,  but  I'm  ready  to  believe 
that  'most  anything  could  be  found  at  the  bottom. 
They  call  it  the  Grand  Canyon,  now.  Injuns  say  thar's 
a  heap  more  o'  the  same  kind,  up  above,  for  three  hun 
dred  mile." 

"  But  did  you  ever  hear  anything  about  the  Buena 
ventura  River,  flowing  west  instead  of  south,  across 
the  Great  Basin  and  emptying  into  the  Pacific  Ocean  ?  " 

"  Heard  about  it,  but  never  saw  it,"  stated  Kit, 
"  Never  knew  a  trapper  who  did  see  it.  O'  course, 
Injuns  give  out  all  sort  o'  tales,  an'  you  can't  believe 


'em." 


"  The  early  Spanish  claimed  such  a  river,  did  they 
not — draining  a  lake?"  put  in  Mr.  Preuss.  "It  is 
marked  down  on  maps  that  I  have  seen." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  lieutenant.  "  Now,  if  there  is 
such  a  river,  as  the  Buenaventura,  connecting  this  cen 
tral  Great  Basin  with  the  Pacific  Ocean  of  California, 
what  a  boon  will  it  be!  Boats  could  ascend  the 
Arkansas,  or  the  Platte,  or  the  Missouri  River,  be 
carried  across  the  mountains,  and  launching  into  the 
Buenaventura  continue  on  to  the  coast !  " 

158 


THE  EMIGRANT  TRAIL 

"  A  water-way  across  the  continent,"  puffed  Mr. 
Preuss.  "That  is  good!" 

"  Bien,  bien !  "  cried  Basil. 

From  the  Green  the  road  crossed  among  hills, 
making  westward  for  the  Bear.  Soon  the  Snake 
woman,  with  her  two  children  and  her  six  pack-horses, 
left  to  seek  relatives  at  the  trading  post  of  old  Jim 
Bridger,  only  a  few  miles  away.  And  the  next  day  Kit 
Carson  spurred  ahead,  for  Fort  Hall,  to  engage  pro 
visions  there,  in  case  that  the  Thomas  Fitzpatrick 
party,  which  should  be  somewhere  on  the  way  from 
Fort  Laramie,  might  be  running  short  or  have  met 
with  misfortune. 

However,  that  very  evening  provisions  walked  in 
of  themselves — being  a  cow  and  her  calf.  They  must 
have  escaped  from  some  emigrant  party ;  and  they  were 
made  more  of  even  than  had  been  the  red  ox — for  the 
cow  gave  milk  in  abundance.  Here  was  luxury:  milk 
for  coffee.  So  they  took  the  mother  and  child  along 
with  them. 

Early  in  the  second  morning  thereafter  the  com 
pany  entered  the  beautiful  valley  of  what  Ike  and 
William  and  all  said  was  the  Bear  River.  Below  but  a 
short  distance  were  the  "  Beer  Springs "  and  the 
"  Steamboat  Spring " ;  and  further  below  was  the 
Great  Salty  Lake. 

That  they  would  visit  the  springs  was  certain,  be 
cause  the  trail  led  past  them;  but  whether  they  would 

159 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

visit  the  lake  was  not  so  certain,  although  Basil,  report 
ing  to  the  Carson  men,  assured : 

"  We  will.  I  think  we  will.  I  hear  the  lieutenant 
and  Mr.  Preuss  talking  so.  That  is  why  we  brought 
again  the  boat." 

"  Boat !  "  snorted  Ike.  "  Another  o'  them  rubber 
contraptions  ?  " 

"  Bien  encore,"  confirmed  Basil.  "  It  is  ready  in 
the  packs.  Like  the  other  but  not  so  big." 

"  Humph !  "  grumbled  William  New.  "  Thought 
I  smelt  it!" 

Oliver  wished  much  to  ask  questions  about  the 
springs,  but  he  knew  that  if  he  waited  he  would  find 
out  everything,  whereas  if  he  asked  he  would  likely 
be  filled  with  trapper  yarns.  Besides,  it  was  the  part 
of  a  greenhorn  to  put  many  foolish  questions.  How 
ever,  William  New  did  remark,  as  they  rode  along: 

"  That  'ere  springs  basin  ahead'll  make  you  think 
you're  in  the  infernal  regions.  Red  rock  an'  blue  rock 
an'  green  trees,  an'  hot  water  an'  cold,  an'  sulphur 
smells  an'  noises.  Wagh !  " 

Emigrants,  making  a  large  and  happy  encampment, 
were  passed ;  and  still  more,  encamped  or  moving,  their 
white-topped  wagons  showing  finely.  The  men  were 
dressed  in  flannel  or  calico  shirts,  jeans  and  boots ;  the 
women  in  calico;  the  children,  chiefly  barefoot,  in 
material  of  various  makeshift  kinds:  and  everybody 
was  happy  and  hopeful  and  well,  eager  to  talk  of 
"  Oregon  "  or  of  "  Californy." 

160 


THE  EMIGRANT  TRAIL 

"  How  far  to  Oregon,  strangers  ?  "  asked  one  of  the 
men. 

"  You're  in  it !  "  answered  the  lieutenant,  laughing. 
"  Anywhere  above  forty-two  degrees  latitude,  west  of 
the  South  Pass,  is  Oregon !  " 

Some  Snake  Indians,  riding  the  trail,  met  the  com 
pany  and  told  the  lieutenant  that  a  large  village  of  their 
fellows  had  just  come  in  from  antelope  hunting  and 
berry  gathering,  and  were  camped  near  by.  These 
Snakes  appeared  to  be  open-hearted,  friendly  Indians. 
They  shook  hands  with  Ike  and  the  other  trappers ;  and 
as  Oliver  well  knew,  Snakes  and  trappers  were  good 
friends,  always,  united  against  the  Blackfeet  and  the 
Sioux.  In  fact,  the  Indians  west  of  the  South  Pass 
were  to  be  counted  upon  as  friendlies — except  the 
Diggers. 

"  Watch  out  for  the  Diggers,  or  they'll  slip  an 
arrow  into  ye,  sure,"  had  warned  William  New. 

So,  this  being  Snake  country,  the  lieutenant  rode 
aside  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  Snake  village.  But  as  they 
came  in  sight  of  it,  a  mile  away  in  a  pretty  little 
bottom-land  beside  a  stream,  out  from  the  cluster  of 
skin  lodges  sped  a  horseman — and  another,  and  an 
other,  and  squad  after  squad,  charging  into  the  open, 
before. 

"  Look  out,  boys ! "  rang  the  voice  of  Lieutenant 
Fremont,  galloping  down  the  line.  And — "  Get  that 
howitzer  ready !  "  he  ordered. 

U  161 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  Those  Injuns  'most  crazy,  I  think/'  muttered 
Basil,  aiding  the  lieutenant. 

"  Wagh !  Looks  like  we'll  be  gone  beaver,  if  we 
don't  watch  out,"  called  Ike.  "  What's  the  matter  with 
the  fools,  I  wonder." 

The  Snakes  evidently  were  in  battle  array.  They 
were  fully  armed,  with  bows  and  lances  and  guns; 
many  were  almost  wholly  naked,  save  for  the  great 
war  bonnets  which  floated  their  red,  yellow  and  white 
feathers  far  behind  the  racing  horses.  In  a  solid,  yell 
ing  mass  they  came  on,  while  in  the  village  women  and 
children  scuttled  into  the  brush.  Suddenly,  ere  a  shot 
had  been  fired,  the  foremost  of  the  Snakes  raised  his 
hand;  his  warriors  slackened,  and  he  rode  forward, 
to  where  the  white  men  were  formed  for  peace  or  war. 

The  Snake  chief  explained  that  his  people  had  seen 
the  flag,  and  that  as  their  enemies  the  Sioux  and  the 
Blackfeet  were  accustomed  to  bear  a  flag  of  some 
kind  they  had  supposed  that  this  was  an  attack.  He 
was  glad  that  no  shots  had  been  fired,  for  the  Snakes 
never  had  spilled  the  blood  of  a  white  man. 

This  explanation  was  satisfactory,  and  escorted  by 
a  dense  throng  of  the  Indians  the  Fremont  and  Carson 
men  rode  on  to  the  Snake  village. 

The  chief  pointed  out  a  spot,  by  the  village,  where 
the  company  should  camp;  and  then  in  a  loud  voice 
announced  to  the  Indians  that  the  white  chief  wished 
to  buy  horses.  Many  speedily  were  driven  up  by  their 

169 


THE  EMIGRANT  TRAIL 

owners,  and  for  beads  and  tobacco  and  knives  and  red 
and  blue  cloth  eight  were  taken  over. 

The  kettles  were  on  the  lodge  fires,  as  always  is 
the  case  in  an  Indian  camp.  The  atmosphere  was  filled 
with  a  peculiar  odor.  Ike  and  William  New  and  the 
other  Carson  trappers,  and  some  of  the  Fremont 
men  also,  sniffed  as  if  pleased ;  and  Oliver  sniffed,  but 
pretended  not  to  be  curious.  This  odor  was  like  to 
decayed  apples — and  evidently  so  thought  Mr.  Preuss 
the  bristly-headed,  red-faced  German,  as  he  bustled 
about. 

"What  is  that?  Rotted  apples!"  he  exclaimed, 
wrinkling  his  nose  disgustedly.  "  Where  do  you  sup 
pose  these  Snakes  got  apples.  I  declare!" 

"That  smell?"  responded  Ike.  "That's  kooyah. 
That's  the  finest  grub  out:  kooyah  root.  Hyar — try 


some." 


A  squaw  was  bringing,  evidently  as  a  gift,  a  steam 
ing  platter  of  yellowish  substance  that  might  have 
been  mashed  sweet-potatoes;  she  presented  it  to  Ike 
with  a  smile.  Mr.  Preuss  took  some  upon  the  point 
of  his  hunting-knife.  He  gingerly  tasted  it. 

"  Ugh!  "  he  spat.  "Tastes  worse  than  it  smells. 
What  do  you  call  it,  you  say  ?  " 

"  Kooyah  root.  But  what's  the  matter  with  yuh — 
wasting  good  food  like  that.  I  tell  'ee,  it  air  prime 
fodder;  it  air  prime,  baked  or  b'iled,  an'  with  that  in 
yore  meat-bag  you  can  travel  fur." 

163 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  The  most  horrid  stuff  I  ever  put  in  my  mouth," 
retorted  Mr.  Preuss,  as  he  left. 

The  Carson  men  afterwards  learned  that  the  chief 
sent  to  the  Fremont  lodge,  where  Mr.  Preuss  also 
had  quarters,  a  kettle  of  the  kooyah  as  a  compliment, 
and  that  the  German  was  driven  by  it  into  the  open  air. 
During  the  march  through  the  Snake  country  the 
camps  made  sport  for  themselves  by  slyly  sticking  some 
of  the  kooyah  messes  under  Mr.  Preuss'  nose ;  whereat 
he  always  fled. 

However,  all  the  others,  even  the  lieutenant,  liked 
the  kooyah,  which  was  called  in  English  "  tobacco 
root,"  and  in  scientific  language,  according  to  the 
lieutenant  and  Mr.  Preuss,  "  valerian." 

The  Oregon  emigrant  trail  led  westward,  down 
the  Bear,  between  high  hills  and  through  immense 
areas  of  blue  flax  now  going  to  seed.  Along  the  trail 
were  travelling,  at  irregular  intervals,  squads  of  emi 
grants,  with  their  wagons  and  cattle,  either  camping  or 
on  the  move  for  the  day's  march.  The  main  caravan 
was  still  some  distance  ahead,  under  personal  leader 
ship  of  Dr.  Whitman. 

"  Yonder,  over  that  fust  ridge/'  directed  William 
New,  to  Oliver,  at  their  next  mess  fire,  "  air  the  Beer 
Springs  an'  the  Steamboat  Spring.  Wagh!  That'll 
surprise  ye — an*  it'll  give  that  German  something 
to  think  of  besides  kooyah." 

"  Do  they  taste?  "  queried  Oliver. 

"Taste,  boy!    Thar's  a  heap  o'  tastes!    But  that 

164 


THE  EMIGRANT  TRAIL 

Beer  Spring  group  air  fine.  O'  course  they  air  a  drink 
that  don't  hurt  ye ;  but  we  trappers  claim  they  make  you 
feel  like  dancing  Injun,  jest  the  same.  I  'xpect  it  air 
the  gas,  tickling  yore  insides.  If  all  the  drinks  in  the 
world  war  no  wuss'n  these  hyar  Beer  Springs,  made 
by  nature,  the  world'd  be  better  off.  So  don't  think, 
'cause  we  old-timers  named  'em  in  fun,  that  thar's  any 
thing  wrong  with  'em.  Sody  Springs  they're  called, 
too." 

The  springs  were  located  in  a  basin  enclosed  by  a 
semicircle  of  rugged  mountain-crests,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  by  the  river  on  the  other.  First,  pieces  of  lava  were 
to  be  noted,  beside  the  trail;  then  came  the  springs 
themselves — hundreds  of  them,  bubbling  and  welling 
from  the  green  and  red  and  white  and  yellow  ground. 
Many  of  them  had  made  little  cones,  of  bright  colors; 
and  even  the  current  of  the  river  boiled  and  frothed 
with  the  gas. 

Everybody  quaffed  deeply  of  the  waters,  which 
sparkled  and  bubbled,  clear  and  luke-warm,  from  the 
rocks  and  the  tufts  of  grass. 

"  Hi  yah !  Hi  yah !  "  capered  William  New,  ridicu 
lously.  "  Hyar's  doings !  This  chile  wants  to  dance. 
Hi  yah!" 

But  he  was  only  pretending,  after  the  fashion  of  the 
place. 

If  anybody  was  not  satisfied  with  a  spring,  all  he 
had  to  do  was  to  walk  a  few  steps,  and  dig  with  his 
heel  or  with  a  stick,  and  he  would  open  up  a  new  spring 

165 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

— sometimes  with  a  slightly  different  taste.  Down 
stream  about  half  a  mile  was  the  most  remarkable 
spring  of  all :  the  Steamboat  Spring.  From  a  red  crack 
in  a  rock  right  at  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  beside  the 
trail,  spurted  a  jet  of  steamy  water,  rising  and  falling; 
a  couple  of  yards  from  it,  from  a  small  round  hole 
puffed  jets  of  steamy  air;  and  water  and  air  together 
made  a  noise  like  the  sighing  "  choo  choo!"  of  a 
steamboat. 


XIII 
TO  THE  GREAT  SALTY  LAKE 


"  Now  I  wonder,"  mused  William  New,  "  what 
that  'ere  lieutenant's  planning  next.  S'pose  you  jest 
take  a  little  walk  over  to  t'other  camp  an'  see." 

"Why?  "asked  Oliver. 

It  was  noon,  and  only  a  short  distance  from  the 
camp  at  the  Beer  Springs,  on  the  day  before,  the  expe 
dition  had  again  halted. 

"  'Cause  this  air  the  jumping-off  place.  If  we  fol 
low  the  trail,  we  go  on  northwest  for  Fort  Hall,  'bout 
fifty  miles  down  the  Portneuf  to  the  Snake.  If  we 
follow  the  B'ar,  we  turn  sharp  south,  for  the  lake, 
which  air  more'n  two  hundred  miles.  An'  I  'xpect 
that's  what  we  do,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Yon  goes  that 
fellow  Lee,  lickity.  Bet  you  he's  an  express  to  Fort 
Hall,  to  tell  Kit." 

A  horseman  had  dashed  away  from  the  Fremont 
quarters,  to  disappear  down  the  trail.  His  own  curi 
osity  aroused,  Oliver  obediently  strode  across  to  the 
Fremont  camp.  He  met  Francois  Lajeunesse,  who 
was  visibly  excited. 

"What's  up,  Francois?" 

"  We  go  to  the  Great  Salty  Lake,"  informed  Fran- 

167 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

C;ois,  who  was  brother  to  Basil.  "  The  lieutenant,  he 
would  explore  the  Great  Salty  Lake — perhaps  sail  on 
it.  He  has  sent  Henri  Lee  to  tell  Kit  Carson  to  come 
back  quick  from  Fort  Hall,  with  provisions." 

"  Have  you  ever  been  there,  Frangois?  " 

"  I  ?  Never !  Nor  Basil,  either.  No,  not  anybody 
in  the  whole  company.  But  I  have  heard  of  it.  It  is 
true — a  great  salty  lake,  with  not  an  outlet  and  with 
fresh  water  flowing  into  it !  " 

Oliver  hastened  back  to  spread  the  news. 

"  Wagh ! "  murmured  William  New,  satisfied. 
"  That  lake  air  thar,  but  it's  pore  beaver  country,  an' 
I  never  cared  to  fool  with  it.  It  war  discovered  in 
winter  o'  Twenty-four  an'  Five  by  old  Jim  Bridger,  to 
settle  a  dispute  as  to  whar  the  B'ar  emptied.  Jim  set 
out  in  a  skin  canoe  from  trapper  winter-camp  in  Cache 
Valley,  below  hyar,  an'  he  went  fur  'nough  to  see  the 
lake  an'  taste  it  too.  He  said  it  war  part  o'  the  Pacific 
Ocean;  an'  trappers  believed  that  till  in  spring  o' 
Twenty-six  four  o'  Cap'n  Bill  Sublette's  men  found  it 
ag'in  an'  paddled  'round  its  edge  looking  for  beaver 
streams.  Didn't  discover  any,  an'  so  the  lake  warn't 
any  use.  Don't  believe  even  Kit's  paid  much  attention 
to  it." 

During  the  rest  of  this  day,  and  through  the  even 
ing,  there  was  constant  talk  of  the  Great  Salty  Lake. 
Everybody,  French  and  American,  was  highly  inter 
ested  in  reaching  it.  Provisions  were  so  low  that 

168 


TO  THE  GREAT  SALTY  LAKE 

Henry  Lee  had  been  despatched  to  hasten  Kit  Carson 
from  Fort  Hall;  however,  the  little  cow  and  her  calf 
were  still  on  hand,  for  emergency,  and  this  very  day 
two  more  calves  were  picked  up,  where  they  had 
strayed  from  some  emigrant  outfit. 

The  emigrant  trail  left  the  Bear,  and  continued 
on  to  the  northwest;  but  the  Bear  itself  turned  short, 
at  right  angle,  and  flowed  for  the  south.  It  was  to  be 
the  guide  to  the  Great  Salty  Lake,  and  the  march  of  the 
expedition  turned  with  it. 

Only  some  200  miles  before  awaited  the  lake — a 
mysterious,  desolate  place,  according  to  reports;  as 
large  as  a  sea,  connecting  with  the  ocean  by  means 
of  a  tremendous  whirl-pool  in  its  centre  that  sucked 
all  creatures  down,  and  containing  islands  inhabited 
by  giants  with  enormous  clubs.  Indians  said  that  such 
clubs  had  been  found,  on  the  shore,  after  storms! 

Cranes  were  seen  flying,  as  if  the  lake  might  be 
close;  but  they  evidently  were  only  seeking  a  slough 
which  bordered  the  river  a  few  miles  beyond.  Here 
were  quantities  of  geese  and  ducks,  but  very  wild  and 
unaccommodating.  The  arrival  of  Kit  Carson,  with 
supplies,  was  eagerly  looked  for. 

The  lieutenant  and  Basil  Lajeunesse,  exploring 
ahead,  following  an  Indian  trail  which  turned  west 
from  the  Bear  came  upon  more  Snake  Indians,  who  by 
sign  talk  said  that  this  trail  would  lead  to  a  fine  broad 
valley  running  north  and  south.  As  the  route  along 

169 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 


the  Bear  was  hilly  and  swampy,  the  march  was  changed 
to  this  trail.  It  conducted  through  a  beautiful  little 
pass,  where  between  twain  huge  gates  of  solid  rock, 
amidst  flowers  and  shrubs  and  many  tender  trees 
rippled  merrily  a  pure  mountain  stream — civilly  leav 
ing  space  for  guests  to  enter  and  depart. 

The  pass  formed  a  little  valley,  long  and  narrow; 
adown  it  came  riding  a  gaily  bedecked  squaw,  with  half 
a  dozen  dogs;  thrown  into  sudden  terror  by  the  spec 
tacle  of  this  white  man's  cavalcade  she  raced  away  as 
fast  as  her  horse  could  carry  her.  Because  of  a  sin 
gular  rock  column,  planted  almost  in  the  centre  of  the 
little  valley,  the  place  was  named  the  Pass  of  the 
Standing  Rock. 

Beyond  the  Pass  of  the  Standing  Rock  was  encoun 
tered  another  village  of  the  Snakes.  When  the  lieu 
tenant  wished  to  trade  for  roots,  the  Indians  opened 
their  blankets  and  showed  him  how  bony  were  their 
bodies. 

"  If  we  sell  to  you,  we  shall  starve ;  see,  how  thin 
we  are,  already !  " 

So  that  night  there  was  nothing  left  to  do  but  to 
kill  the  faithful  little  cow ;  and  this  was  ordered. 

The  Shoshonies  or  Snakes  of  the  village  said  that 
the  great  salty  water  was  only  two  sleeps  south.  The 
next  day  the  march  arrived  at  the  Roseaux  or  Reed 
River,  which  is  separated  from  the  Bear  by  a  mountain 
ridge;  and  down  the  Roseaux  they  turned.  In  the 

170 


TO  THE  GREAT  SALTY  LAKE 

midst  of  the  cold  rain,  this  night,  entered  their  camp 
a  cringing,  starved  dog  with  a  bullet-wound  in  his 
side.  Oliver  made  much  of  him,  and  fed  him  some 
scraps  and  let  him  sleep  on  the  foot  of  the  buffalo-robe. 

The  water  of  the  River  of  Weeds,  which  is  known 
also  as  the  Malade,  or  Sick  River,  tasted  salty,  as  if  in 
token  that  the  lake  was  near.  Through  a  canyon  in 
the  divide  the  Bear  River  broke  through  into  the 
valley,  and  presently  the  two  rivers  joined,  with  the 
expedition  caught  in  the  angle  between  them.  The 
country  was  growing  more  and  more  mysterious,  with 
much  reeds  and  cane  growth  and  willow  thickets,  and 
flight  of  water-fowl.  In  the  distance  ahead  the  valley 
opened  wide;  above  the  level  line  of  the  swamps  rose 
several  hazy  outcrops,  like  enchanted  islands  floating 
upon  the  horizon.  And  islands  they  indeed  were :  for 
the  level  line  was  the  basin  of  the  great  lake. 

Now  the  rubber  boat  was  unpacked.  It  was  not  so 
ill-smelling  as  the  rubber  boat  of  last  summer,  and 
was  in  the  shape  of  a  canoe  about  eighteen  feet  long. 
The  gunwales  and  the  bows  must  be  inflated,  to  stiffen 
the  boat.  Although  Ike  and  William  New  and  other 
Carson  men,  and  some  of  the  Fremont  men  also, 
viewed  the  craft  askance,  and  poked  fun  at  it,  right 
here  it  came  in  very  handy,  for  by  it  was  all  the  camp 
baggage  ferried  across  the  mouth  of  the  Roseaux; 
even  the  cannon  was  thus  carried.  The  men  and  the 
horses  swam. 

171 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Taking  the  bold  Basil  Lajeunesse  as  companion,  the 
lieutenant  re-embarked  in  the  boat,  for  a  voyage  down 
the  Bear.  He  thought  it  possible  that  in  this  way  he 
would  reach  the  lake.  His  company  were  to  continue 
on,  by  land. 

As  the  lieutenant  and  Basil,  in  the  frail  boat,  disap 
peared  around  the  first  bend  of  the  reedy  channel  there 
was  grave  shaking  of  heads  over  the  venture. 

"  The  seams  are  only  pasted  when  they  should 
have  been  sewed.  It  is  a  weaker  boat  than  that  of 
last  year." 

"  Thar  air  critters  in  the  swamps  lower  down  that'll 
swallow  boat  an'  all,  'cording  to  Injun  say." 

"  Sech  doin's  don't  shine  with  this  coon.  He  wishes 
he  war  back  at  old  Touse,  he  does." 

"  Ma  foi !  Suppose  they  two  come  to  the  place 
where  the  river  runs  from  under  them  so  that  they 
sink  in  the  mud!  And  then  the  people  with  web  feet 
like  ducks  will  get  them !  " 

The  march  proceeded,  down  along  the  course  of  the 
Bear.  All  day,  by  horse  and  foot,  tugging  the  spring- 
wagon  and  the  gun-carriage,  they  plodded.  Gradually 
the  country  changed,  becoming  more  and  more  desolate 
and  forbidding.  In  places  the  river  seemed  to  be 
higher  than  the  surface  upon  either  side :  sluggishly 
rolling  between  banks  like  welts  it  spread  out  into  salt 
marshes  harboring  thousands  of  water  fowl — ducks, 
geese,  cranes,  herons,  pelicans,  gulls,  curlew,  plover. 

172 


TO  THE  GREAT  SALTY  LAKE 

Where  the  water  had  evaporated  under  the  sun  the 
bare  soil  gleamed  white,  and  was  covered  with  small 
shells.  Only  a  few  twisted  shrubs  and  short  blackened 
willows  rose  above  the  drear,  dead  expanse. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  the  camp  was  pitched  among 
willow  clumps.  The  lieutenant  and  Basil  had  not 
appeared,  and  nothing  had  been  seen  of  the  boat. 
Many  were  the  dire  predictions,  and  Francois,  Basil's 
brother,  was  well-nigh  frantic.  Over  the  wide  salt 
swamps  the  sun  set  strangely  yellow,  his  glow  casting 
a  ghastly  light  upon  all  objects.  But  a  cheer  rang 
forth,  for  trudging  along  the  river  came  the  lieutenant 
and  Basil. 

They  were  wet  and  tired  and  hungry.  The  boat 
had  moved  slowly  upon  the  heavy  current  which  swept 
along  in  a  winding  course  of  many  curves  and  doub 
lings;  so  finally  they  had  left  the  craft  behind  cached 
in  some  willows,  and  clambering  out  upon  the  bank 
had  trailed  the  company  afoot,  for  three  hours. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  Basil  started  back, 
with  a  small  party,  all  on  horseback,  to  get  the  boat; 
they  returned  in  the  afternoon,  bringing  not  only  the 
boat  but  some  roots  and  bear-meat  for  which  they  had 
traded  with  the  Diggers. 

"  Shoshonies  and  Shoshokies — they  air  same  In 
juns  made  different  by  the  way  they  live/'  declared 
William  New  to  Oliver.  "  You  see,  when  they  air  rich 
an'  have  hosses,  like  the  Snakes,  they  call  themselves 
Shoshonies;  an'  when  they  air  pore  an'  miser'ble 

173 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

an'  go  afoot,  they  air  called  Shoshokies.  Out  on  the 
desert,  west  o'  hyar,  these  Root  Diggers  air  so  pore 
they  wear  a  rabbit-skin  for  winter  blanket,  an'  they  eat 
beetles  an'  grass-hoppers  an'  rats.  Wagh!  But  they 
use  p'isened  arrows,  an'  they're  wuss  in  a  fight  than 
bigger  Injuns." 

As  the  march  proceeded  the  water-fowl  increased, 
until  when  disturbed  they  arose  with  fast  flutter  of 
wings  that  boomed  like  thunder.  Soon  the  blind  trail 
was  cut  by  an  impassible  morass  through  which  drained 
the  water  of  the  river.  Here  camp  must  be  made. 
They  decided  that  this  was  the  mouth  of  the  Bear,  and 
that  now  the  great  lake  began;  but  they  could  not  see 
over  the  willows  and  rushes,  they  could  not  advance, 
and  therefore  they  must  turn  back  and  seek  better 
approach. 

Ten  days  had  passed  since  Henry  Lee  had  left 
on  the  emigrant  trail  for  Fort  Hall,  to  carry  word  to 
Kit  Carson.  Kit  had  not  come,  and  some  of  the  men 
were  beginning  to  grumble  over  the  lack  of  provisions. 
To  be  sure,  for  the  last  two  or  three  days  there  had 
been  plenty  of  ducks  and  geese  and  plover;  but  the 
birds  were  wild  and  to  hunt  them  down,  in  the  marshes, 
was  hard  work.  Why  didn't  Carson  get  in,  with 
grub?  Maybe  he  wasn't  coming  at  all;  maybe  he  was 
lost,  or  the  Injuns  had  stampeded  him. 

"  You  fellows  don't  know  Kit,"  reproved  Ike. 
"  He'll  come,  straight  an'  quick,  if  he  got  the  word." 

174 


TO  THE  GREAT  SALTY  LAKE 

"  With  me,  Carson  and  truth  are  the  same  thing," 
asserted  Lieutenant  Fremont.  "  I  have  found  that  you 
can  depend  on  him  absolutely." 

And  hurrah!  This  very  morning,  as  the  camp 
was  packing  to  turn  back,  in  rode  Kit,  with  a  pack- 
animal. 

He  had  done  the  best  that  he  could,  but  he  had 
brought  only  a  little  flour,  and  a  moderate  quantity 
of  lesser  provisions. 

"  Fitzpatrick  hadn't  come  in,  yet,"  announced  Kit ; 
"  but  the  fort's  alive  with  emigrants.  They've  all  col 
lected  thar,  holding  a  pow-wow,  whether  to  go  on  with 
their  wagons  an'  cattle,  or  with  packs.  Jest  as  I  left, 
that  man  Whitman  arrived,  from  down  the  trail,  an' 
he  war  making  a  speech,  telling  'em  he'd  take  'em 
through,  wagons  an'  all,  or  bust.  Anyway,  they've 
stripped  the  post  o'  supplies." 

All  were  glad  to  see  Kit  again;  and  he  was  eager 
to  see  the  lake.  The  new  trail  wound  along  the  bases 
of  the  range  of  hills  on  the  east,  until  it  turned  into  a 
gorge  or  canyon  from  which  issued  a  river — the 
Weber  River,  with  sparkling  current  flowing  rapidly 
between  high  wooded  banks.  The  cavalcade  left  the 
trail,  and  followed  the  river,  for  the  mystic  lake. 

Camp  must  be  made  before  the  lake  was  sighted. 
The  next  morning  the  march  was  resumed,  this  time 
straight  for  a  shoulder  or  butte  which  rose  plain  in 
view  across  the  open,  brushy  flat.  And  on  this  morn 
ing  of  September  6,  1843,  climbing  the  butte  the 

175 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

breathless  company — Boy  Oliver  no  more  excited  than 
Lieutenant  Fremont  or  Kit  Carson  themselves — gazed 
out  over  the  Great  Salty  Lake,  at  last. 

Silent  it  lay,  sluggishly  heaving,  its  shores  unin 
habited  and  bare.  No  city  of  Ogden  anear  floated 
upon  the  clear  air  the  smoke  plumes  of  man's  suprem 
acy;  no  Mormon  plough  had  yet  stirred  the  soil  by 
the  River  Jordan,  nor  had  Mormon  trowel  laid  a  single 
brick  of  the  capital  of  the  State  of  Utah.  The  lonely 
waves  washed  heavily  the  whitened  lonely  beach;  the 
wide  lonely  surface  was  broken  by  but  two  or  three 
high  rocky  islands,  blue  in  distance.  Beyond,  at  the 
far  extremity  of  this  inland  sea,  lifted  vague  peaks; 
eyries  from  whose  lofty  crags  as  from  a  watch-tower 
peered  abroad  the  couchant  genie  of  the  place. 

Kit  Carson,  his  weather-beaten  face  sober,  from  the 
saddle  scanned  intently.  As  he  stood  leaning  upon  his 
rifle,  Lieutenant  Fremont's  bold  blue  eyes  flashed  with 
triumph,  and  his  hawk-nose  jutted  the  more  domin- 
antly.  Scarcely  a  word  was  spoken.  All  were  too 
excited  and  too  absorbed  to  cheer. 

Then,  as  they  gazed,  down  from  those  eyries  be 
yond  swooped  in  guise  of  big  black  clouds  (as  in  the 
Arabian  Nights)  the  guardians  of  this  secret  spot. 
They  poured  from  the  distant  mountain-tops  across  the 
darkening  water,  and  with  furiously  swirling  draper 
ies  covered  islands  and  everything. 

"  Wagh !  "  muttered  William  New.  "  Better  be 
getting  out  o'  hyar!  Spirits  air  angry." 

176 


TO  THE  GREAT  SALTY  LAKE 

"  We'll  make  camp  in  that  first  grove,  up  the  river," 
said  Lieutenant  Fremont.  "  And  to-morrow  we'll  put 
things  in  shape  for  a  trip  on  the  lake.  There's  a  lot  of 
work  to  be  done,  in  the  way  of  surveying  it." 

Driven  backward  by  the  thunder-storm,  they  re 
tired  to  a  grove  of  great  poplars,  about  nine  miles 
inland  from  the  butte. 


XIV 
SAILING  THE  INLAND  SEA 


THE  night  settled  clear  and  calm,  with  scarce  a 
breath  of  air  to  sough  through  the  pendent  leaves  of 
the  stately  poplars.  But  the  moonlit  atmosphere  was 
rife  with  strange  sighings  and  moanings  and  whisper 
ings,  as  from  the  ghostly  lake  out  of  sight  below  the 
camp.  These  sounds  may  have  been  water- fowl; 
William  New  and  other  trappers  and  voyageurs  in 
both  parties  said  that  they  were  "  spirits  "  and  "  medi 
cine  " ;  Jacob  Dodson,  the  young  colored  man,  said 
that  they  were  "  mighty  like  ha'nts  " ;  and  the  wounded 
dog,  which  now  was  recovering,  whined  and  shivered 
and  snuggled  closer  upon  Oliver's  buffalo  robe. 

In  spite  of  the  sounds  real  and  imaginary  the  camp 
was  safe  and  whole  at  day-break.  The  lieutenant  put 
everybody  at  work  cutting  timber  with  which  to  make 
a  horse-pen  and  a  fort.  In  the  midst  of  these  prepara 
tions  Ike  Chamberlain  sought  out  Kit  Carson,  and 
addressed  him  freely. 

"  Say,  Kit,  what's  the  meaning  o'  this  hyar?  Must 
be  going  to  stay  awhile." 

"  Going  to  stay  till  the  lieutenant  gets  through, 
Ike." 

178 


SAILING  THE  INLAND  SEA 


Wall,  he's  not  our  boss.     We're  an  independent 


consarn." 


"  I  reckon  you  are,  Ike.    So  what's  the  matter?  " 
"  We've  'bout  decided  that  staying  hyar  an'  living 
on  roots  an'  feathers  whilst  a  crazy  man  measures  that 
thar  lake  doesn't  shine  with  us  fellows.    Thar  air  no 
fur  an'  no  meat  hyar,  an'  snow  air  creeping  down  the 
hills.     We  want  to  get  out  whilst  we  can." 
"  I  won't  stop  you,  Ike." 
"  You  come  too." 

"  Not  an  inch.    I  engaged  to  Lieutenant  Fremont, 
an*  I'm  going  through." 

"  On  that  'ere  lake,  in  that  'ere  boat,  Kit?  " 
"  I  shorely  am,  Ike,  if  the  lieutenant  asks  me  to." 
"  Don't  you  do  it,  Kit,  don't  you  do  it,"  implored 
Ike,  much  concerned.  i  Thar's  a  whirlpool  that'll 
swallow  you,  boat  an'  all.  If  the  lake  has  nary  river 
draining  it  off,  how  does  it  keep  from  overflowing, 
with  these  rivers  running  in !  Must  drain  by  a  whirl 
pool,  which  sucks  the  water  off  fast  as  it  comes  in. 
Mebbe  thar  air  cannibals  on  those  islands,  to  gobble  ye 
soon  as  ye  land.  Besides,  whar's  the  grub  for  the 
crowd?  What  you  fetched  down  from  Hall  is  'bout 
gone  already,  an'  we'll  soon  be  living  wuss'n  Root  Dig 
gers.  When  the  snows  fall  lower  we'll  be  shut  in  to 
starve.  'Tain't  a  fit  country  for  white  man;  'tain't, 
Kit.  We're  going  to  pull  out,  an'  you'd  better  come 
with  us.  If  that  lieutenant  wants  to  stay  an'  make 
figgers,  let  him." 

179 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  Go  if  you  want  to,  Ike.  I  stay  with  Fremont/' 
answered  Kit  Carson,  evenly.  "  He  expects  me  to,  and 
I  will.  I  can't  ask  you  Touse  men  to.  There  won't 
be  much  fun  in  it,  for  you,  especially  if  we  push  on  for 
the  coast  by  winter  trail  down  the  Snake." 

"  What !  "  gasped  Ike.  "  Jest  to  get  figgers  ?  No, 
siree.  I  reckon  we'll  pack  back  through  the  mountains, 
whar  thar's  fur  an'  meat,  for  Laramie,  Kit." 

"  All  right,  Ike.  When  you  get  to  Touse  tell  Josefa 
I'm  well."  And  Kit  turned  away. 

Oliver  heard  this  conversation,  and  was  aghast. 
Back  to  Taos?  Never!  He  hastened  after  Kit  and 
appealed  to  him : 

"Do  I  have  to  go,  Kit?" 

"Whar,  boy?" 

"  Back,  with  Ike  and  the  rest." 

"  Reckon  you'd  better.  Times  air  liable  to  be  hard 
on  the  trail,  an'  we're  bound  through  to  Vancouver." 

"  But  I  want  to  stay,  Kit.  I'll  feed  myself— I'll 
do  my  own  foraging — I'd  just  as  soon  eat  roots,  I 
like  'em.  I  want  to  stay,  with  you  and  Lieutenant 
Fremont— and  sail  on  the  lake — and  go  to  the  coast. 
I'm  not  afraid." 

"  Not  afraid  to  explore  that  'ere  lake  in  that  rubber 
contraption,  an'  get  swallowed  by  a  whirlpool, 
mebbe?" 

"  No,"  declared  Oliver,  stanchly. 

"  Wall,"  smiled  Kit  Carson,  his  clear  gray-blue 
eyes  twinkling,  "  if  Ike  an'  the  rest  should  happen  to 

180 


SAILING  THE  INLAND  SEA 

ride  off  an'  you  shouldn't  be  with  'em,  I  s'pose  we'd 
have  to  keep  you,  best  we  could.  You've  got  yore  dog, 
to  eat." 

To  the  wise  a  word  is  sufficient.  Ike  and  William 
New  and  all  the  Carson  squad  swiftly  packed,  to  take 
the  trail.  The  Fremont  men  cast  sidelong  glance  as 
they  proceeded  with  their  own  duties,  and  some,  amidst 
the  bantering,  hinted  that  they  would  like  to  go,  too. 
But  they  were  under  orders:  enlisted  for  this  United 
States  Army  service.  The  Taos  men  were  free  trap 
pers,  enlisted  not  at  all. 

"  Ready,  boy?  "  called  William  New,  to  Oliver. 

"  I  want  to  wait  and  see  the  boat  start,"  answered 
Oliver.  "  Go  on;  I  can  trail  you." 

"  You'd  better  do  it  in  a  hurry,  then,"  grumbled 
William  New,  as  he  mounted.  "  We're  heading  for 
beaver  an'  buff'ler,  an'  we  travel  fast." 

Without  another  word  off  they  rode,  two  by  two, 
at  trapper  rack  or  single-foot;  and  following  up  the 
Weber  Fork  they  disappeared  among  the  hills. 

Oliver  sauntered  about,  and  at  the  first  opportunity 
took  a  hand  in  rolling  logs. 

"Aren't  you  going,  boy?"  demanded  Lieutenant 
Fremont,  suddenly  noting  him. 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Why  not  ?    Wouldn't  they  take  you  ?  " 
'Yes,  sir;  but  I'd  rather  stay  with  you  and  Kit." 

"  Oh,  I  see."  And  the  lieutenant,  out  of  careworn 
bearded  face,  eyed  him  calculatingly. 

181 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  I'd  like  to  sail  in  the  boat,  on  the  lake,  if  there's 
room,"  ventured  Oliver.  "  I  wouldn't  be  afraid." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  the  lieutenant. 
"  I  don't  know  but  what  you'd  better  go  on  up  to  Fort 
Hall  with  Frangois  and  party.  I'm  sending-  them,  in 
a  minute  or  two,  so  as  to  cut  down  the  drain  on  the 
supplies." 

«  rd— like— to— stay,"  faltered  Oliver.  "  Kit  said 
I  could  eat  my  dog — but  maybe  I  won't  have  to." 

"  You're  liable  to  eat  worse  than  dog,  if  you  do 
stay,"  warned  the  lieutenant,  with  a  sudden  smile 
lighting  his  countenance.  And  he  added :  "  But  stay 
you  shall.  You're  a  brave  lad,  and  I  like  courage." 

The  horse  corral  and  the  little  fort,  both  of  cotton- 
wood  or  poplar  trunks,  were  finished ;  and  in  the  latter 
was  mounted  the  battered  but  faithful  brass  howitzer. 
Nobody  might  tell  yet  how  many  Indians,  perhaps 
Utes,  perhaps  Snakes,  perhaps  Root  Diggers,  perhaps 
strangers  more  savage,  might  be  spying  and  planning 
attack  upon  these  few  invaders;  so  precautions  were 
taken.  This  being  done,  Frangois  Lajeunesse  and 
some  others  were  told  off  by  the  lieutenant,  to  go  back 
up  the  Bear  and  on  to  Fort  Hall,  there  to  wait. 

After  Frangois  and  companions  left,  the  Carson- 
Fremont  camp  on  the  Weber  River  consisted  of  the 
lieutenant  and  Kit,  Basil  Lajeunesse,  Baptiste  Bernier, 
Baptiste  Derosier,  Francois  Badeau,  Mr.  Preuss,  Jacob 
Dodson  the  young  colored  man,  and  Oliver.  Sergeant 

182 


SAILING  THE  INLAND  SEA 

Zindel  had  started  with  the  Frangois  squad,  but  Jacob 
knew  how  to  handle  the  gun. 

The  day  was  spent  in  patching  and  strengthening 
the  rubber  boat,  in  making  scientific  observations,  and 
in  exploring  the  country  near  at  hand.  The  sunset  was 
beautiful,  orange  and  green,  reflected  in  the  waters  of 
the  great  lake — a  sunset  so  peculiar  that  it  might 
have  been  enchantment  by  a  wizard,  testing  his  spells 
after  the  frowns  of  the  genie  had  failed.  However, 
nobody  was  afraid  of  the  wizard,  and  the  supper  of 
yampa  roots  and  a  fat  duck  which  Jacob  had  shot 
tasted  good.  The  spells  by  a  stout  heart  are  much 
stronger  than  any  spells  by  any  wizard. 

It  was  planned  that  the  next  day  a  voyage  should 
be  made  to  the  nearest  of  the  islands.  Neither  Kit 
Carson  nor  Lieutenant  Fremont  put  much  stock  in 
tales  of  whirlpool  and  ravenous  monsters  and  club- 
bearing  giants — although,  of  course,  who  could  say! 
But  they  hoped  to  find  upon  the  islands  flowers  and 
fruits  and  crystal  streams  and  much  game,  never  before 
witnessed  by  human  being. 

Jacob,  and  Frangois  Badeau  and  Baptiste  Deroiser 
had  been  named  to  garrison  the  little  fort.  After 
an  early  breakfast  the  lieutenant  and  Kit,  Mr.  Preuss 
and  Basil  and  Baptiste  Bernier  busied  themselves  in 
packing  the  boat,  tied  to  the  river-bank,  with  blankets 
and  scientific  instruments  and  three  rubber  bags  of 
water  and  a  little  food. 

"  Wall,  boy,"  remarked  Kit  Carson,  with  a  twinkle, 
183 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

eyeing  Oliver,  who  lingered  near,  "  looks  as  though 
you'd  better  stay  ashore." 

"  What's  that  ?  "  queried  the  lieutenant,  overhear 
ing.  "  Oh,  I  guess  we  can  make  room.  By  all  means. 
He  climbed  the  highest  peak,  and  I  think  he  ought  to 
be  one  to  explore  the  enchanted  islands.  Come  along, 
lad.  You  can  pump  the  bellows  and  keep  her  blown 
up." 

And  Oliver  needed  no  second  invitation. 

The  sun  was  just  appearing  over  the  mountain 
ranges  in  the  east  when,  on  this  the  eighth  of  Septem 
ber,  the  rubber  canoe  left  her  moorings  and  started 
down  the  river,  for  the  lake.  The  men  paddled ;  Oliver 
was  set  at  work  pumping  air  into  the  inflated  cylin 
ders,  along  gunwales  and  bows,  for  they  leaked. 

It  was  a  delightful  voyage.  Frequently,  at 
warning  hiss  from  the  paddlers  before,  they  all  floated 
silently,  in  order  to  get  a  shot  at  a  duck  or  goose; 
to  shoot  it  in  the  head,  of  course,  if  possible.  These 
pauses,  and  the  halts  to  pick  up  the  game,  consumed 
time,  so  that  when  the  river  channel  opened  out  upon 
the  lake-shore  evening  was  near. 

At  the  lake-shore  the  river  made  a  kind  of  swamp, 
traversed  in  several  places  by  a  shallow,  slow  current. 
The  boat  stuck  in  the  mud,  and  its  crew  must  get  out 
and  shove  her  and  haul  her  along,  in  mud  to  their 
knees.  Finally,  at  a  little  point  of  dry  land,  amidst 
willows  and  reeds,  where  there  was  plenty  of  drift 
wood,  camp  was  made.  The  supper  menu  was  roasted 

184 


SAILING  THE  INLAND  SEA 

ducks  and  plover  and  geese — and  the  breakfast  menu 
was  the  same. 

All  night  the  hoarse  voices  of  wild-fowl,  in  marsh 
and  upon  lake,  kept  the  air  vibrant  with  multitudinous 
sound.  However,  upon  their  low  beds  of  willow- 
branches  and  rushes  the  little  camp  by  the  unknown 
inland  sea  slept  safely,  until,  at  the  first  touch  of  pink 
in  the  eastern  sky,  the  cheery  tone  of  Lieutenant  Fre 
mont  aroused  with  "  Leve,  leve !  " — the  trappers'  sig 
nal  to  arise. 

This  was  the  day  for  the  voyage  upon  the  salty 
lake.  Oliver  felt  a  strange  wonderment  and  exhilara 
tion:  he  felt  like  crying  "Hooray!"  The  lieutenant 
was  all  energy,  and  even  Kit  Carson  was  more  talka 
tive  than  customary,  while  Mr.  Preuss  scarcely 
chewed  his  food  before  swallowing  it — so  excited  was 
he.  But  Basil  and  Baptiste  were  unusually  quiet,  even 
to  seeming  downcast. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  two  boys — you  and 
Baptiste?"  demanded  the  lieutenant,  of  Basil.  "Are 
you  afraid,  so  soon  ?  " 

"  No,  monsieur  lieutenant,"  responded  Basil. 
"  Only,  we  have  had  a  bad  dream,  Baptiste  and  I.  It 
means  evil.  Now,  if  we  could  but  postpone  the  voyage 
until  to-morrow To-day  is  unlucky." 

"  Nonsense !  "  reproved  the  lieutenant.  "  Did  you 
dream,  Kit?" 

"  Oh,"  said  Kit,  "  sometimes  I  have  bad  dreams  an' 
sometimes  I  have  good  dreams;  an'  sometimes  after 

185 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

the  bad  dreams  I  have  the  best  luck,  an'  sometimes 
after  the  good  dreams  I  have  the  worst  luck.  So  I've 
come  to  depend  more  on  what  I  do  when  I'm  awake 
than  on  what  I  do  when  I'm  asleep." 

"  Anybody  can  dream,  but  it  takes  a  man  to  do," 
spoke  the  German,  Mr.  Preuss. 

"  Well,  I  sha'n't  govern  our  operations  by  dreams, 
or  we're  liable  not  to  get  anywhere,"  avowed  the  lieu 
tenant.  "  When  we  come  back  from  the  islands  we'll 
laugh  at  Basil  and  Baptist e." 

"  Oh,  we  go  too,"  said  both.  But  they  did  not 
brighten  up  much. 

Only  a  short  distance  beyond  the  place  of  the  camp 
the  river  channels  were  lost  in  a  great  mud-flat  cov 
ered  by  an  inch  or  so  of  water.  Now  everybody 
stripped  to  the  skin,  to  haul  the  boat  to  the  lake,  beyond. 
At  the  sight  of  these  strange  white  creatures  the  long- 
legged  plover  with  which  the  flat  swarmed  circled  and 
screamed.  The  mud  was  about  the  texture  of  paint, 
and  when  stirred  up  smelled  disgustingly,  as  if  com 
posed  of  decaying  insects.  Speedily  the  crew  were 
smeared  with  the  black  liquid  to  the  thighs.  Behind 
them  they  left  a  long,  discolored,  greasy  trail. 

The  unpleasant  mud  extended  for  a  mile,  when 
suddenly  they  came  to  a  little  ridge,  hard  and  distinct, 
rising  underfoot.  Here  the  mud  stopped ;  beyond  the 
little  ridge,  which  acted  as  a  divide,  was  firm  sandy  bot 
tom,  and  very  salt  water — the  bottom  and  the  water 
of  the  great  lake. 

186 


SAILING  THE  INLAND  SEA 

/ 

Now  with  a  cheer  they  hastily  dressed,  clambered 
aboard,  and  launched  forth — Oliver  pumping  with  the 
bellows. 

The  nearest  island  seemed  to  be  a  low  one,  rising 
to  a  flat-top  instead  of  to  a  regular  peak.  For  this 
was  the  boat  directed. 

The  frail  rubber  boat  rode  easily  the  swells  of  the 
light-green,  clear  water.  The  pasted  seams  held  well ; 
the  inflated  sides  and  ends  lifted  her  high.  But  in  a 
short  time  she  looked  queer  indeed,  as  if  riding  a  snow 
storm;  for  when  the  swells  broke  against  her  they 
sprayed  salt  which  turned  white  in  the  drying  air. 
It  covered  her  and  her  crew,  and  of  Lieutenant  Fre 
mont,  with  his  full  beard,  it  made  a  hoary  old  man. 

"  There's  a  current  setting  southward ;  see  how 
the  foam  patches  all  drift  one  way?  "  said  Mr.  Preuss. 

"  Ma  foi !  It  is  the  whirlpool  sucking  at  them !  " 
muttered  Baptiste,  tremulously. 

"  Paddle  hard,"  encouraged  the  lieutenant. 

Kit  had  been  peering  keenly  ahead,  at  the  island. 
He  spoke  sharply. 

"  Captain  (he  called  the  lieutenant  '  captain/  which 
was  according  to  trapper  custom),  what  are  those  yon 
der?  Just  take  a  look  with  the  glass,  won't  you?  " 

All  gazed,  half  alarmed,  while  Lieutenant  Fremont 
levelled  his  long  telescope.  Between  the  boat  and  the 
island  was  a  peculiar  fringe  of  changing  white. 

"  Oh !    Those  are  only  waves,  Kit,"  announced  the 

187 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

lieutenant.  "  They're  breaking  to  white-caps.  Must 
be  a  breeze  coming.  Beyond  still,  on  the  shore  of  the 
island,  is  a  row  of  pelicans,  I  think." 

The  breeze  soon  struck  the  boat.  Riding  high,  it 
made  yet  slower  headway,  but  it  showed  no  symptoms 
of  capsizing.  A  good  little  craft  she  was. 

"  Pump,  boy,"  bade  Kit.     "  Those  thar  tanks  leak 


wuss'n  ever." 


And  Oliver  plied  the  bellows. 

The  breeze,  fierce  and  constant  as  if  the  wizard  or 
the  genie  was  blowing  with  the  breath  to  defeat  the 
rash  intruders,  swept  directly  from  the  island,  until, 
shut  off  by  the  rocks,  it  apparently  ceased,  and  the 
water  was  smooth.  The  row  of  pelicans  proved  to  be 
only  rocks  whitened  by  salt. 

Now  in  a  few  minutes  the  rubber  canoe  was  gliding 
through  transparent  shallows,  and  was  about  to  land 
at  the  shelving,  level  shore. 

"  We'll  have  to  carry  her  up  before  she  touches, 
boys,"  spoke  the  lieutenant,  leaping  overboard,  to  his 
waist.  "  These  sharp  rocks  will  punch  a  hole  in  her." 

Overboard  sprang  all,  and  hustling  the  baggage 
ashore  carried  the  fragile  craft  after  it. 

No  giants  opposed  their  landing;  no  huge  figures 
rushed  from  the  high  sage,  and  flourished  clubs,  to 
clear  the  beach.  The  stretch  of  shore  exhibited  no 
foot-print,  of  human,  or  inhuman,  or  even  of  beast. 
Save  the  wash  of  the  waves  and  the  whisk  of  the  wind 

188 


SAILING  THE  INLAND  SEA 

not  a  sound  arose.  By  all  evidence,  the  island  was  a 
desert  island,  uninhabited. 

From  its  high  point,  where  its  rocks  rose  to  about 
800  feet,  the  party  surveyed  its  whole  surface.  Salt 
and  a  gigantic  species  of  greasewood  (the  only  "giant" 
thing)  ;  another,  whitish  shrub,  some  prickly  pear,  etc., 
were  the  only  inhabitants  of  the  island;  salt  was  de 
posited  in  every  crevice  and  pool ;  two  birds  flew  from 
the  mainland,  on  brief  visit ;  that  was  all.  And  because 
of  the  disillusion  where  they  had  hoped  to  find  fruits 
and  flowers  and  game  and  sparkling  streams,  they 
christened  the  island  Disappointment  Island.  Into  a 
rock  O'f  the  peak  the  lieutenant  chiselled  with  his  knife 
a  cross ;  and  by  the  rock  he  accidentally  left  the  brass 
cap  of  his  telescope. 

That  night  each  man  (including  Oliver)  made  him 
self  a  little  shelter-lodge  out  of  the  abundant  drift-wood 
on  the  shore,  and  with  feet  to  the  large  fires  lay  down 
for  slumber.  There  was  no  need  of  any  sentry,  nor 
of  hand  upon  gun.  The  island  was  perfectly  safe. 
To  be  enabled  to  sleep  without  a  fear  was  novel  experi 
ence,  and  was  worth  the  trip. 

During  the  night  the  wind  increased  again;  and 
once  Lieutenant  Fremont  said  that  the  waves  sounded 
like  the  surf  of  the  ocean. 

In  the  morning  the  waves  were  running  high;  the 
warders  of  the  great  lonely  lake  had  still  not  given  up 
the  fight.  Now  the  wind  was  from  the  opposite  direc- 

189 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

tion,  or  off  shore,  trying  to  keep  the  boat  to  the  island ! 
So  again  must  the  crew  paddle  hard,  while  Oliver 
pumped  with  the  bellows;  the  lake  was  rougher  than 
on  the  day  before;  the  rubber  strained  and  the  ribs 
creaked,  and  Basil  and  Baptiste  croaked  dire  "  I  told 
you  so/'  Nevertheless,  at  noon  the  shore  was  reached, 
before  the  promontory  butte,  and  with  a  glad  shout 
of  exultation  and  relief  they  all  leaped  into  the  shal 
lows,  to  carry  baggage  and  craft  high  and  dry. 

But  the  efforts  of  the  angered  lake-guardians  were 
not  spent.  While  harder  blew  the  gale,  it  shifted,  and 
presently  it  was  rolling  the  lake  itself  farther  and 
farther  upon  the  shore!  The  temporary  camp  had 
been  placed  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  edge; 
but  across  the  mud  flat  came  creeping  the  water. 
When  Mr.  Preuss  arrived  with  horses  from  the  main 
camp  up  the  river  there  was  just  time  to  pack  and 
mount  and  ride,  before  the  tide  had  covered  the  spot. 
When  they  looked  back,  the  lake  was  busy  wiping  out 
all  traces  of  their  intrusion  upon  its  shores.  However, 
upon  the  island  in  its  midst  was  the  chiselled  cross, 
and  the  brass  cap  of  the  telescope.  Another  army 
man,  Captain  Howard  Stansbury,  also  of  the  Topo 
graphical  Corps,  in  1849  found  the  cross,  but  not  the 
brass  cap;  the  Mormon  settlers  of  the  lake  shore  had 
called  the  island  Castle  Island;  he  named  it  Fremont 
Island. 

Across  a  low,  sandy,  salty  plain  the  late  crew  of  the 

190 


SAILING  THE  INLAND  SEA 

rubber  boat  rode  for  the  log  fort.  The  foiled  wizard 
or  genie  who  seemed  to  dwell  in  those  mountains 
across  the  water  pursued  them  with  a  thunder-storm, 
but  they  outstripped  it,  and  welcomed  gladly  by  the 
salute  of  Jacob's  howitzer  they  entered  the  friendly 
grove. 


XV 
ON  TO  THE  COLUMBIA 


"  You  say  that  the  emigrants  were  going  on, 
wagons  and  all,  Kit  ?  "  queried  the  lieutenant. 

"  That  war  the  plan.  Whitman  said  he'd  get  'em 
through,  an*  they'd  need  their  goods  an'  cattle  at  t'other 
end." 

The  little  company  were  on  the  back  trail  for  Fort 
Hall.  As  Ike  Chamberlain  had  warned,  already  winter 
was  creeping  down  the  mountain-sides,  with  his  ban 
ners  of  white  ever  investing  closer  the  lowlands.  Even 
while  the  explorers  had  been  encamped  near  the  lake, 
the  snows  seemed  to  have  increased  upon  the  crests  of 
the  Wasatch  Range,  overhead.  It  was  a  thousand  long 
miles  to  the  end  of  the  trail  at  Vancouver  upon  the 
lower  Columbia;  therefore  Lieutenant  Fremont  and 
Kit  Carson  agreed  that  to  put  in  more  time  hereabouts 
was  hazardous. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  following  the 
voyage  to  Disappointment  Island  the  march  was  be 
gun,  up  the  Bear  and  the  River  of  Weeds,  for  Fort 
Hall,  six  days'  travel  with  the  baggage. 

Once  more  the  talk  drifted  to  the  amazing  pilgrim 
age  of  Oregon  emigrants,  and  the  great  concourse  of 
them  at  Fort  Hall,  before  Kit  had  left. 

192 


ON  TO  THE  COLUMBIA 

"  The  Hudson  Bay  people's  policy  would  be  to  dis 
courage  settlers,  anyway,"  mused  the  lieutenant. 
"  With  settlers  in  there  tilling  the  ground  and  showing 
the  Indians  and  the  Canadians  that  farming  paid  bet 
ter  than  fur-hunting,  the  Company's  business  would 
suffer." 

"  Yes,"  drawled  Kit ;  "  an'  this  hyar  emigration,  if 
it  goes  through,  will  put  more  Americans  than  thar  air 
British  in  the  Oregon  country;  an'  if  thar's  anything 
in  settlement  of  a  country  it'll  mean  a  big  help  to  the 
United  States." 

"  It  surely  will,"  affirmed  the  lieutenant.  "  Success 
in  life  and  in  battle  means  getting  there  first,  and 
sticking." 

The  route  to  Fort  Hall  followed  up  the  Roseaux  or 
River  of  Weeds  from  its  juncture  with  the  Bear  to  its 
sources.  Here  galloped  into  camp  a  horseman  from 
the  north — Baptiste  Tabeau,  of  the  Thomas  Fitz- 
patrick  party.  Baptiste,  shaking  hands  right  and  left, 
brought  the  news  that  the  White  Head,  with  all  well, 
was  but  a  short  distance  across  country,  encamped  at 
Hall.  Baptiste  had  been  despatched  southward,  to 
meet  the  lieutenant. 

Excited  by  promise  of  flour  and  rice  and  dried 
meat  and  butter,  the  Fremont  camp  slept  little  this 
night,  and  early  in  the  morning,  which  was  September 
1 6,  started  onward.  In  the  afternoon  of  September  18, 
emerging  from  the  hills,  with  a  cheer  they  greeted  the 
sight  of  a  green  valley  set  amidst  a  sombre  sage  plain, 

13  193 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

and  beside  the  sparkling  Portneuf  River  which  watered 
it,  the  white  walls  of  a  trading  post.  This  was  the 
British  Hudson  Bay  Company  post  of  Fort  Hall,  on 
the  Portneuf,  a  mile  above  the  Snake  itself,  in  the 
Plains  of  the  Snake. 

Thomas  Fitzpatrick,  his  boyish  ruddy  face  glowing 
from  its  frame  of  oddly  white  hair,  came  to  meet  them. 

"  How  are  supplies  ?  "  asked  the  lieutenant,  at  once. 

"  I've  saved  all  I  could.  We've  been  on  short 
rations.  But  the  post  is  'bout  as  poor  as  when  Kit 
left  it.  Emigrants  cleaned  it  out.  Beef  and  butter  is 
what  you'll  get;  that's  all." 

"  Where  are  the  emigrants?    Don't  see  any." 

"  Gone ;  wagons,  cattle,  women,  children  and  all. 
Left  a  few  steers  and  oxen,  in  trade;  but  they  took 
most  of  their  stuff  right  along." 

"  Do  you  think  they  can  get  through,  with  their 
wagons,  Fitzpatrick?  "  queried  the  lieutenant. 

"  If  anybody  but  that  missionary  doctor  was  lead 
ing  them,  I  would  say  not,"  replied  the  Broken  Hand. 
"  Why,  even  the  Fort  Hall  people  don't  try  to  fetch 
in  their  goods  on  wheels ;  they  canoe  it  from  Vancouver, 
for  two  hundred  miles,  then  they  use  pack  animals  for 
the  land  trail,  up  along  the  Snake  to  the  post.  I  agree 
with  Captain  Grant  that  no  wagons  can  go  over  that 
pack  trail.  But  as  I  understand,  this  missionary  doc 
tor  came  riding  in  hot  haste,  from  down  the  Snake, 
found  the  emigrants  discouraged  by  Grant  and  other 
post  people,  called  them  together,  made  a  speech,  told 

194 


ON  TO  THE  COLUMBIA 

'em  he'd  been  over  the  trail  and  he  knew  and  that  they 
were  foolish  to  abandon  their  wagons  and  implements 
and  try  to  take  their  goods  and  families  in  by  saddle, 
that  they'd  need  their  States  animals  to  plough  with, 
and  that  he  guarantee  to  get  'em  through!" 

"Will  he?" 

"  Well,"  answered  Thomas  Fitzpatrick,  slowly, 
rubbing  his  chin ;  "  they  left,  wagons  and  all,  August 
thirtieth,  and  now  it's  September  eighteenth  and  none 
of  'em  has  come  back;  and  there  aren't  any  wagons 
lying  'longside  the  trail,  far  as  we've  seen." 

Now  the  two  parties  united  camped  beside  the  walls 
of  Fort  Hall.  Agent  Grant  himself  stepped  out  to 
give  welcome  and  meet  the  lieutenant. 

"  You  Americans  are  a  wonderful  people,"  de 
clared  Agent  Grant.  "  Why,  this  emigration  that  just 
went  through  is  four  or  five  times  as  large  as  that  of 
last  year,  and  it's  taking  wagons  in!  Heavy  farm 
wagons,  heaped  with  goods!  " 

"Will  they  succeed?" 

"  No,  sir.  I  and  every  other  man  of  experience 
know  that  the  trail  is  impossible  for  wagons.  At  least 

"  and  Agent  Grant  hesitated,  "  impossible  except 

perchance  for  this  Doctor  Whitman.  I  never  heard  or 
talked  with  such  an  obstinate,  determined  man.  He 
has  a  tremendous  responsibility  on  his  hands,  though. 
I'll  wager  that  before  you  get  two  hundred  miles  from 
the  post  you'll  find  the  trail  fairly  littered  with  cast-off 
wagons.  But  if  not,  lieutenant — if  not,  then  it  will 

195 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 


be  a  blow  to  British  rule  in  Oregon.  I  have  heard  Dr. 
McLoughlin,  our  chief  agent,  at  Vancouver,  say  that 
Oregon  is  safe,  because  it  never  can  be  reached  by 
Yankee  families  except  around  Cape  Horn;  but  what 
he'll  say  when  he  sees  the  Yankees  coming  down  from 
the  mountains,  with  wagons,  all  the  way  from  the 
States,  I  don't  know.  And  such  a  number !  Last  year 
Dr.  White  took  in  a  few,  afoot  or  by  saddle  and  pack 
— but  this  year,  eight  hundred,  with  wagons — my 
stars !  If  they  get  through,  then  I  shall  expect  to  hear 
of  them  continuing  right  on  down  to  the  ocean  and 
under  it  to  Japan!  " 

The  lieutenant  laughed. 

"  You  British  in  Oregon  don't  know  the  Ameri 
can,"  he  said.  "  When  the  Yankee  once  starts  for  a 
new  country,  nothing  can  stop  him." 

"  But  some  of  them  didn't  know  they  were  in  Ore 
gon  yet !  "  expostulated  Captain  Grant.  "  They  asked 
me : '  Say,  stranger,  how  far  to  Oregon  ?  ' 

"  They  asked  us  the  same,  back  on  the  Bear." 

"  And  still  they  were  pressing  on !  "  gasped  Cap 
tain  Grant.  "Well,  well!" 

"  How  are  you  fixed  for  supplies?  " 

"  Cleaned  out,  lieutenant.  But  I  have  some  Yankee 
oxen." 

"  Good." 

Agent  Grant  was  a  kindly  man,  helping  Ameri 
cans  and  British  alike.  The  emigrants  had  been  sup 
plied  by  him  with  whatever  he  had  that  they  wished. 

196 


ON  TO  THE  COLUMBIA 

The  lieutenant  was  enabled  to  buy  of  him  several 
horses,  and  five  fat  oxen. 

Now  indeed  winter  set  in  with  an  all-day  snow. 
Suddenly  the  country  looked  bleak  and  drear.  By 
travel  up  and  down  to  the  end  of  the  trail  at  Vancouver 
was  some  900  miles.  Lieutenant  Fremont  called  his 
company  together  and  made  a  short  address. 

"  I  am  under  instructions  to  go  on  to  Vancouver," 
he  said.  "  It  is  not  a  pleasant  nor  an  easy  trail,  at  the 
best,  and  as  winter  is  at  hand  there  are  some  of  you 
whom  I  will  discharge.  It  is  impossible  for  me  to 
continue  with  so  large  a  company,  and  several  men 
are  in  no  condition  to  take  the  trip,  anyway.  Those 
whom  I  discharge  I  discharge  with  honor;  they  will 
be  entitled  to  transportation  and  to  pay  until  they 
reach  the  frontier  again." 

So  he  named  Charles  DeForrest,  Henry  Lee,  John 
Campbell,  William  Creuss,  Auguste  Vasquez,  Alexis 
Pera,  Patrick  White,  Baptiste  Tesson,  Michel  Crelis, 
and  Frangois  and  Basil  Lajeunesse.  Everybody  hated 
to  have  Basil  go,  but  his  family  needed  him. 

Mr.  Preuss  the  German,  and  Sergeant  Zindel  the 
Prussian  artillerist,  and  Jacob  the  colored  boy,  and 
the  gallant  Alexander  Godey  of  the  black  silky  locks, 
were  retained ;  and  of  course  Kit  Carson  and  Thomas 
Fitzpatrick  the  White  Head ;  and,  hurrah,  Oliver ! 

In  the  midst  of  cold  rain  and  gusty  wind  camp  was 
broken,  and  the  march  was  resumed:  that  of  the  one 
party  for  the  South  Pass,  300  miles,  and  Fort  Laramie, 

19T 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

and  home;  that  of  the  other  party  for  the  Columbia 
River,  600  miles,  and  Vancouver,  and— who  knew? 

Therefore  down  along  the  great  and  desolate  Snake 
River  travelled  the  party  of  Lieutenant  Fremont.  Ever 
the  wagon- wheel  tracks  of  the  800  emigrants  led  on, 
and  on. 

The  Fremont  company  found  the  road  growing 
rougher,  with  many  steep  grades  up  which  the  men 
must  boost  the  carts,  one  by  one.  Nevertheless,  the 
heavier  emigrant  wagons  had  passed;  none  had  yet 
been  abandoned. 

Thomas  Fitzpatrick  the  Bad  Hand  again  was  dele 
gated  to  keep  the  rear,  and  bring  along  the  baggage- 
train;  the  lieutenant  and  his  lighter  column  pushed  to 
the  front. 

After  a  week  of  travel  Snake  Indians,  fishing  for 
salmon,  were  passed.  Fat  and  ruddy-faced  and  jolly 
with  the  oily  meat  were  these  Snakes,  and  to  the  com 
pany  traded  salmon  fresh  and  dried.  "  Haggai,  hag- 
gai  (fish,  fish)  !  "  cried  the  Indians,  glad  to  see  more 
white  wayfarers ;  for  to  the  Indians  the  "  Bostons," 
as  they  called  the  American  settlers,  had  brought  much 
prosperity  in  shape  of  old  trousers  and  battered  hats 
and  such  gear,  exchanged  for  fish. 

At  the  first  Ford  of  the  Snake,  where  the  Oregon 
Trail  crossed  from  the  left  or  the  south  bank  to  the 
right  or  the  north  bank,  the  Fremont  men  almost  lost 
their  howitzer  and  mules  in  the  strong  current.  But 
the  emigrants,  said  the  Indians,  had  chained  their 

198 


ON  TO  THE  COLUMBIA 

wagons  in  a  solid  line,  and  had  crossed,  and  had  gone 
on.  The  distance  from  Fort  Hall  was  250  miles,  and 
Agent  Grant's  prediction  of  wreck  and  litter  upon  the 
trail  had  not  come  true.  The  wheel  marks  continued. 

At  the  end  of  the  second  week  of  travel  the  Fre 
mont  party  reached  Fort  Boise,  Hudson  Bay  Company 
trading  post,  companion  to  Fort  Hall,  now  350  miles 
eastward. 

Agent  Payette  reported  that  sun-browned  and 
gaunt  and  tattered,  with  wagons  creaking  and  cattle 
limping,  the  Yankee  emigrants'  train  had  passed 
through. 

"  An  amazing  sight/'  affirmed  Agent  Payette. 
"  Men,  women  and  children,  in  they  poured  and  out 
they  went,  piloted  by  your  Doctor  Whitman.  They 
are  eleven  days  ahead  of  you.  They  have  come  thus 
far — but  worse  awaits  them,  when  they  leave  the  Snake 
and  strike  into  the  hills  for  the  Blue  Mountains.  That 
is  a  trail  scarcely  fit  for  pack-mules,  so  thick  grows  the 
sage." 

At  Boise  the  road  again  crossed  the  Snake,  from 
right  to  left  bank,  and  the  faithful  rubber  boat  came 
into  good  play.  It,  and  a  portion  of  a  bullock  car 
cass,  were  left  at  the  post  for  the  use  of  the  Thomas 
Fitzpatrick  party,  toiling  in  second  division. 

On  the  third  day  out  of  Fort  Boise,  sure  enough  the 
trail  veered  from  the  rushing  Snake,  and  inland  point 
ing  would  cross  the  northeastern  corner  of  present 
Oregon  State. 

199 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Rougher  waxed  the  way.  There  were  signs  that 
the  emigrants  had  been  in  much  trouble.  At  one  place 
a  wagon  had  been  overturned  twice,  in  a  short 
distance. 

Straight  down  a  steep  rocky  slant,  as  sharply 
pitched  as  a  peaked  roof,  had  plunged  the  emigrants, 
their  wagon  wheels  scoring  deeply  the  scant  soil.  And 
down  by  the  same  route  went  the  Fremont  party,  hold 
ing  hard  on  the  howitzer  and  the  spring-carriage. 

Agent  Payette  had  told  the  lieutenant  of  an  Indian 
trail  out  which  would  prove  better  than  that  road 
which  the  emigrants  probably  would  take.  Following 
this  to  the  Blue  Mountains,  the  Fremont  party  climbed 
the  heavily  wooded  divide,  where  logs  must  be  chopped 
and  trees  must  be  felled  to  clear  a  way  for  the  howitzer 
and  the  carriage.  At  last,  from  an  open  spot  across  the 
summit,  westward  could  be  descried  the  Walla  Walla 
River,  tributary  to  the  Columbia,  and  light  green 
patches  which  must  be  the  settlements  of  American 
missions. 

On  the  morning  of  October  24  these  green  patches 
were  reached.  They  were  the  missionary  station  of 
Doctor  Whitman  himself.  Fields  had  been  cultivated 
to  potatoes  and  corn;  and  here,  at  Waiilatpu,  among 
the  Waiilatpu  Indians  of  the  Cayuse  nation,  on  the 
Walla  Walla  River  near  to  present  Walla  Walla  City 
in  southeastern  Washington  State,  was  the  Doctor 
Whitman  house,  made  with  adobe  clay  bricks. 

Oliver  had  looked  forward  to  seeing  again  this 
200 


ON  TO  THE  COLUMBIA 

plucky  Doctor  Whitman,  physician,missionary  and  Ore 
gon  enthusiast — that  wayworn  traveller  with  the  mixed 
white  and  brown  hair,  the  large  mouth  and  the  deep- 
set  blue  eyes,  who  had  arrived,  so  nearly  exhausted, 
in  Taos  last  winter  on  his  long  trip  from  coast  to  coast. 
Doctor  Whitman  was  absent  down  the  river  to  bring 
back  Mrs.  Whitman.  But  here  were  mariy  of  the  emi 
grants,  resting  and  staring  and  eating  potatoes. 

On  the  way  from  Waiilatpu  down  along  the  Walla 
Walla  to  the  mouth  at  the  Columbia  more  emigrants 
were  passed.  They  all  were  loud  in  their  praises  of 
Doctor  Whitman. 

Near  the  mouth  of  the  Walla  Walla  was  Fort 
Walla  Walla,  a  third  of  the  chain  of  Hudson  Bay 
Company  posts  along  the  trail.  A  few  hundred  yards 
below  flowed  past  the  lordly  flood  of  the  noble  Colum 
bia  River. 

The  next  supply  station  in  prospect  was  The  Dalles, 
150  miles  below,  where  the  Methodist  missions  had 
headquarters. 

Indians,  Cayuse  and  Nez  Perce  (Pierced  Nose), 
were  met;  some  of  them  seemed  almost  civilized,  in 
their  white-man  clothes,  and  could  speak  a  little  Eng 
lish.  This  was  the  influence  of  the  Protestant  and 
Roman  Catholic  missionaries.  And  again,  some  of  the 
Indians  met  seemed  not  civilized  at  all,  being  very 
dirty,  and  inclined  to  steal  horses.  However,  they 
were  not  now  dealing  with  weary  and  ignorant  emi 
grants;  they  were  dealing  with  mountain-men — with 

201 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Kit  Carson  and  Oliver,  Lieutenant  Fremont  and  the 
German  Preuss ;  so  they  reaped  no  horses. 

The  snowy  dome  of  mighty  Mt.  Hood  uplifted,  a 
beacon  before,  marking  the  high  Cascade  Range  where 
winter  was  in  full  reign.  The  air,  at  night,  was  cold, 
below  freezing — but  all  were  accustomed  to  this;  and 
worse  was  to  come. 

On  November  4,  forty-three  days  and  700  miles 
from  Fort  Hall,  102  days  and  1925  miles  from  Fort 
St.  Vrain,  into  the  mission  settlement  of  The  Dalles 
of  the  Lower  Columbia  rode,  with  their  best  bearing 
and  at  their  best  pace,  the  tanned,  weather-stained, 
patched  and  gaunt  but  never  beaten  Fremont  and 
Carson  men. 


XVI 
SOUTHWARD  FOR  THE  UNKNOWN 

THE  Reverend  H.  K.  Perkins  was  missionary  in 
charge  of  the  station  here  at  The  Dalles.  He  and  Mrs. 
Perkins  and  all  their  household  gave  the  Fremont 
party  a  hearty  American  welcome.  It  seemed  good  to 
be  among  wooden  houses,  and  ploughed  fields,  and 
gardens;  and  the  lieutenant  and  the  French  said  that 
it  reminded  them  of  Missouri. 

Fort  Vancouver  was  ninety  miles  on,  down  the 
Columbia  and  beyond  the  Cascade  Range.  Lieutenant 
Fremont  decided  to  leave  the  party  and  the  animals  to 
rest  at  the  mission,  while  he  went  ahead,  by  canoe,  to 
finish  his  survey  by  reporting  at  Vancouver.  This 
would  connect  the  survey  with  the  survey  made  along 
the  coast  by  Lieutenant  Wilkes;  and  besides,  at  Fort 
Vancouver  resided  Dr.  John  McLoughlin,  chief  of  the 
Hudson  Bay  Company  in  Oregon.  To  call  upon  him 
was  a  necessary  courtesy  from  the  American  Govern 
ment  to  the  British  Government.  Furthermore,  at 
Vancouver  probably  could  be  purchased  supplies  of  a 
kind  that  could  not  be  found  at  the  missionary  stations. 

The  fifth  of  November  being  Sunday,  of  course  this 
was  a  day  of  rest  for  everybody  at  The  Dalles ;  but  on 

203 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Monday  the  Reverend  Mr.  Perkins  helped  the  lieuten 
ant  to  hire  a  large  canoe  from  the  Indians  here,  and 
three  Indians,  who  owned  it,  were  engaged  as  crew. 
With  them,  and  taking  Mr.  Preuss,  Jacob  Dodson  the 
colored  youth,  and  Baptiste  Bernier,  the  lieutenant 
launched  off  for  Vancouver. 

He  appointed  Kit  Carson  in  charge  of  the  camp, 
and  up  the  back  trail  he  sent  a  note  for  Thomas  Fitz- 
patrick,  instructing  him  to  drop  the  carts  at  Dr.  Whit 
man's,  and  to  come  on  to  The  Dalles  with  pack-saddles. 
Kit  Carson  also  was  instructed  to  be  making  pack- 
saddles. 

All  this  was  very  interesting. 

"  Do  you  think  we'll  go  back  by  the  same  trail  we 
came  out,  Kit?  "  queried  Oliver. 

"Wall,  I  dunno,"  mused  Kit  Carson.  "But  I 
reckon  not.  That's  not  Fremont  way.  We  found  the 
trail  out  hyar  already  made,  an'  nothing  left  for  us 
to  do  but  to  follow  along  an'  calkilate  figgers.  So  the 
government  at  Washington'll  know  all  about  the  Ore 
gon  Trail  an'  about  the  lake,  too;  an'  it  won't  be  like 
Fremont  to  take  the  back  track.  He  prefers  the  new 
to  the  old.  Once  or  twice  he's  spoken  of  going  back 
by  the  north,  around  the  head  o'  the  Missouri,  an' 
down.  But  these  hyar  pack-saddles  mean  a  new  trail 
somewheres." 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Perkins  had  suggested  to  the 
lieutenant  that  he  could  reach  Washington  quickest 
and  easiest  by  chartering  a  small  brig,  which  was 

204 


SOUTHWARD  FOR  THE  UNKNOWN 

anchored  in  the  river  below  Fort  Vancouver,  and  sail 
ing  down  the  coast  to  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  there  to 
cross  and  charter  another  vessel  for  the  United  States. 
Consequently,  with  this  in  prospect,  and  with  the  re 
turn  by  way  of  the  sources  of  the  Missouri  in  prospect, 
the  future  looked  bright.  Besides 

"Or  else,"  remarked  Kit,  "  thar's  the  southern 
trail,  to  find  that  Buenaventura  River  emptying  from 
the  desert  into  the  ocean,  and  to  strike  the  Spanish 
Trail  for  the  mountains  an'  the  States.  The  lieutenant 
has  been  mightily  interested  in  the  Buenaventura. 
He's  talked  considerable  about  it." 

Here  was  the  third  route. 

The  lieutenant  returned  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
eighteenth.  At  once  was  it  known  that  he  had  decided 
for  the  southern  trail,  into  the  unexplored,  where 
awaited  the  fabled  Buenaventura. 

According  to  the  lieutenant,  and  to  Kit  Carson,  and 
all,  this  was  a  country  well-nigh  unexplored,  this  coun 
try  south,  lying  between  the  Wasatch  Range  of  the 
Great  Salty  Lake  on  the  east  and  the  Sierra  Nevada 
Range  bordering  California  on  the  west.  All  accounts 
agreed  that  it  was  a  great  basin,  of  sandy,  salty,  sagy 
bare-rock  desert  broken  by  sudden  peaks  and  ridges. 
In  it  Lieutenant  Fremont  anticipated  finding  strange 
peoples  and  wild  valleys  and  curious  waters. 

First  to  be  encountered,  upon  the  march  down 
from  the  Columbia  of  the  north,  was  a  lake  called 
Tlamath  or  Klamet  or  Klamath  Lake,  which  in  the 

205 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

spring  was  a  real  lake,  but  which  in  the  summer  and  the 
fall  was  only  a  green  meadow.  This  lake  was  at  the 
head  of  the  Riviere  des  Chutes  or  Falls  River,  which 
from  it  flowed  north  for  the  Columbia.  From  the  neigh 
borhood  of  the  lake  the  Sacramento  River  of  California 
flowed  south,  and  the  Tlamath  River  flowed  west  to 
the  ocean.  Moreover,  the  Tlamath  Indians,  living  at 
the  lake,  were  said  to  be  treacherous  and  hard  fighting. 

Next  to  be  encountered,  as  the  lieutenant  hoped, 
was  a  flat  desert  lake  called  Mary's  Lake,  down  in  the 
Great  Basin. 

Next  should  come  the  fabled  Buenaventura,  or 
Good  Fortune  River,  flowing  across  from  the  vicinity 
of  the  Great  Salt  Lake  clear  to  the  Pacific,  and  empty 
ing  into  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco ! 

With  the  Buenaventura  located,  as  a  water-way 
from  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  the  Pacific,  then  the 
Fremont  party  might  head  eastward  more,  for  the 
Rockies  themselves,  and  the  Arkansas  River,  and 
Bent's  Fort  below. 

Now  everybody  was  enthusiastic.  No  one  objected 
to  starting  out  at  once,  in  the  beginning  of  winter, 
after  hard  travel  already  of  2000  miles,  for  the  un 
known.  The  talk  was  of  hidden  lakes  and  rivers  and 
boiling  springs,  and  of  marvels  of  man,  beast  and 
plant  such  as  the  Great  Salty  Lake  had  failed  to 
produce. 

"  Hooray  for  the  new  country !  "  was  the  cry. 

The  lieutenant  had  brought  back  from  Fort  Van- 

206 


SOUTHWARD  FOR  THE  UNKNOWN 

couver  provisions  of  flour,  dried  peas  and  tallow,  for 
three  months.  The  tallow  was  to  be  used  in  frying, 
etc.  Enough  horses  had  been  engaged  from  the  In 
dians  about  the  mission  to  recruit  the  number  of  ani 
mals,  saddle  and  pack,  to  104.  The  Reverend  Mr. 
Perkins  prevailed  upon  two  of  his  Indians  to  be  guides 
as  far  as  the  Tlamath  Lake.  One  of  these  Indians 
had  fought  the  Tlamaths  there,  and  had  been  wounded, 
so  he  was  not  likely  to  forget  the  route.  The  pack- 
saddles  were  finished  rapidly,  and  other  preparations 
responded,  as  fast,  to  the  enthusiasm. 

On  the  twenty-first  Thomas  Fitzpatrick  and  his 
party,  including  Mr.  Talbot  the  tenderfoot  (soon  to  be 
a  veteran),  Alexander  Godey  of  the  handsome  hair, 
Sergeant  Zindel  the  Prussian  artillerist,  arrived.  When 
they  had  heard,  they  also  were  eager  for  the  trip.  Mr. 
Gilpin  must  proceed  on,  to  Vancouver;  Mr.  Dwight 
already  had  gone. 

Upon  the  twenty-fourth  all  arrangements  were 
completed.  At  the  last  the  Reverend  Mr.  Perkins 
brought  to  the  camp  a  Chinook  Indian  boy,  aged  nine 
teen,  who  wished  "  to  see  the  whites  "  and  learn  how 
the  whites  lived  in  their  homes  of  the  east.  He  had 
been  in  the  Perkins  household  and  could  speak  a  little 
English.  Him  the  lieutenant  enrolled,  promising  to 
return  him  to  his  relatives  and  friends,  after  the 
journey. 

This  night  of  November  24  the  camp  was  so  excited 
over  the  new  trail  and  the  homeward  way,  that  nobody 

207 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

slept  well,  and  all  rose  before  daylight,  to  breakfast  and 
pack  by  the  cold  star-shine. 

Twenty-two  or  three  whites  there  were — American, 
French,  German,  Canadian — to  take  the  trail  for  the 
Buenaventura:  twenty-two  or  three  whites,  Jacob  the 
young  negro,  the  Chinook  stripling,  104  horses  and 
mules,  a  number  of  cattle,  the  howitzer,  and  Oliver's 
dog  from  the  River  of  Weeds.  The  trusty  spring 
wagon  was  left  behind,  as  a  gift  to  the  mission.  Its 
glass  lamps  had  been  broken,  and  one  of  its  front  panels 
had  been  kicked  in  by  a  horse ;  otherwise  it  was  of  good 
condition.  The  mission  was  pleased  to  have  it. 

In  a  long  line,  about  noon  of  this  November  25 
(Thanksgiving  season!)  of  1843,  amidst  flurries  of 
snow,  the  expedition  set  forth  from  the  Dalles  of  the 
Columbia.  The  Reverend  Mr.  Perkins  rode  out  with 
them  for  a  few  miles,  to  wish  them  God-speed.  Finally 
he  must  stop. 

"  Good-by,  good-by,  and  God  bless  you/'  he  said, 
beginning  with  the  lieutenant,  and  shaking  hands  all 
down  the  line.  "  Good-by  and  good  fortune." 

"  Good-by,"  they  responded ;  and  "  Au  revoir, 
monsieur." 

The  course  was  south,  up  the  long  valley  of  the 
Riviere  des  Chutes,  with  the  white  Cascade  Mountains 
on  the  right,  and  many  an  icy  stream  to  ford. 

At  the  headwaters  of  the  River  of  the  Falls  a  pine 
forest  was  entered,  December  8 ;  a  pine  forest  cloaking 
magnificently  a  yellowish-white  soil  of  pulverized 

208 


SOUTHWARD  FOR  THE  UNKNOWN 

pumice-stone  whereon  grew  not  a  blade  of  grass.  The 
Indian  guides  pointed  out,  as  great  curiosities,  pine 
cones  a  foot  and  a  half  long. 

Now  the  trail  was  good,  the  weather  pleasant,  if 
crisp,  but  the  horses  and  mules  and  cattle  fared  badly 
for  lack  of  grass.  Then,  on  December  10,  from  the 
pines  the  cavalcade  emerged  upon  a  wide  green 
meadow — a  lake  of  grass ;  and — 

"Tlamath  Lake!  Tlamath  Lake!  Lac  du 
Tlamath !  "  welled  the  glad  cheer. 

This  must  be  it.  Thus  the  two  Indian  guides  de 
clared  it,  and  by  its  meadow  character  it  answered  to 
descriptions.  The  horses  and  mules  and  cattle  eyed 
wistfully  the  green  expanse  extending  to  their  feet; 
and  they  fell  greedily  to  cropping. 

Surrounded  by  timbered  slopes  was  the  lake- 
meadow.  It  looked  peaceful.  But  according  to  trap 
per  theories,  "  Whar  thar  ain't  any  Injuns  to  be  seen, 
then  thar  air  the  most  of  'em ! "  and  here  in  the 
Tlamath  country  no  chances  should  be  taken  need 
lessly.  Moreover,  out  in  the  middle  of  the  lake- 
meadow  smokes  were  rising,  and  beyond,  along  the 
shore,  were  other  smokes. 

"  Better  speak  to  'em  with  the  big  gun,  to  tell  'em 
who  we  air,  hadn't  we,  captain  ? "  suggested  Kit 
Carson. 

"  That's  a  good  idea,"  seconded  Fitzpatrick  the 
Bad  Hand. 

"  Yes ;  throw  a  shell  across  the  lake,  sergeant ;  but 

U  209 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

don't  hurt  anybody/'  said  the  lieutenant  to  Sergeant 
Zindel. 

Nothing  loath  was  Sergeant  Zindel.  He  and  his 
cannoneers  sprang  to  the  brass  howitzer,  unlimbered 
it  and  swung  it  about,  pointing  it  diagonally  over  the 
lake-meadow.  Under  the  short  guttural  orders  of  the 
sergeant  a  charge  was  rammed  home,  and  was  followed 
by  a  shell.  The  three  Indians — the  two  guides  and 
the  young  Chinook — gazed  with  much  wonderment, 
and  even  the  Fremont  men  were  expectant. 

The  cannoneers  sprang  aside;  Sergeant  Zindel 
applied  the  fuse  to  the  primed  vent.  The  loud 
"  Boom !  "  of  the  howitzer  rolled  to  the  mountain- 
slopes  around  about,  but  before  any  echoes  had  an 
swered,  there  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  over  the  lake- 
meadow  against  the  timber  back-ground  burst  with 
white  explosion  the  shell! 

"  Bravo !  Hooray !  "  cheered  the  company,  now 
listening  to  the  echoes. 

"  Wah !  The  gun  that  speaks  twice !  "  murmured 
the  three  Indians,  awed  by  the  shot. 

"  Those  fellows  know  something's  happened,  all 
right,"  remarked  Mr.  Talbot. 

For  instantly  every  smoke  had  been  quenched,  as 
the  frightened  Tlamaths  would  conceal  their  villages 
and  themselves  from  the  astounding  "  medicine 
people  "  who  had  appeared. 

Camp  was  pitched  upon  a  piny  point,  before  which 
the  animals  could  graze  under  guard. 

210 


SOUTHWARD  FOR  THE  UNKNOWN 

The  Indian  guides  were  of  the  opinion  that  the 
dreaded  Tlamaths  were  "  very  little  "  before  the  white 
men  and  the  gun-that-speaks-twice.  Lieutenant  Fre 
mont  determined  to  keep  up  the  first  impression  made ; 
therefore,  as  this  afternoon  and  the  next  morning  no 
Tlamaths  had  come  near,  he  resolved  to  visit  them. 
Arrayed  for  peace  or  war,  out  into  the  lake-meadow 
boldly  rode  the  company. 

The  smoke  place  was  distant  and  obscure,  until 
when  within  half  a  mile  of  it  a  collection  of  low  round 
huts  could  be  distinguished,  with  Indians  perched  atop, 
watching. 

"  These  hyar  guides  want  us  to  form  line,  trapper 
fashion,  an'  ride  down  in  style,"  explained  Kit  Carson. 

To  humor  the  guides,  who  were  proud  of  their 
company,  the  Fremont  men  ranged  themselves  in  a 
long  front,  and  proceeded  at  a  pace,  while  the  guides 
galloped  ahead  to  meet  two  Indians  now  approaching 
from  the  village. 

They  were  the  village  chief  and  his  wife;  and 
they  had  come  out,  on  behalf  of  their  alarmed  people, 
to  live  or  die  at  the  mercy  of  the  mysterious  strangers. 

The  Tlamath  chief,  handsome  of  face  and  soft  of 
voice,  thankful  that  his  life  was  spared,  conducted 
the  powerful  strangers  to  his  village.  This  was  com 
posed  of  a  few  large  woven-grass  huts,  entered  by 
doors  in  the  rounded  tops.  Grass  were  the  huts ;  grass 
the  shoes  and  the  caps  of  the  inmates,  and  grass  were 
the  mats  and  baskets  of  the  furnishings.  Fish  was 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

the  food.  Therefore  well  did  the  Klamath — whom 
Lieutenant  Fremont  styles  Tlamath — call  themselves 
"  People  of  the  Lake,"  for  by  rushes  and  fish  the  lake 
supplied  them  with  their  necessities  of  life. 

Sharp-nosed,  prick-eared,  woolly,  wolfish  dogs  were 
sitting,  with  their  masters  and  mistresses,  upon  the 
roofs  of  the  huts;  and  as  companion  to  Oliver's  dog 
the  men  purchased  a  puppy,  whom  they  named 
"  Tlamath." 

Now  the  two  guides  from  the  mission  at  the 
Dalles  concluded  that  they  had  come  as  far  as  was 
required  of  them;  they  would  turn  homeward.  Lieu 
tenant  Fremont  asked  the  Tlamath  chief  for  Tlamath 
guides  onward ;  but  the  handsome,  soft-spoken  Tlamath 
chief  shook  his  head,  and  by  signs  indicated  that  he  had 
no  horses,  the  snow  on  the  mountains  was  deep,  and  his 
family  were  sick.  He  could  not  go,  and  it  seemed  that 
he  had  none  of  his  young  men  to  send,  either. 

Therefore,  the  next  morning,  the  Fremont  and  Car 
son  company  started  out,  to  make  their  own  trail. 
Snow  was  falling,  the  sky  was  dark,  and  for  a  mile 
and  a  half  they  crossed  the  narrow  end  of  the  lake- 
meadow,  where  amidst  the  frozen  grass  were  ponds  of 
ice  upon  which  the  pack  animals  slipped  and  floundered. 

The  travel  was  east,  pointed  for  another  "  large 
water  "  which  the  Indians  said  would  be  found  in  that 
direction,  after  a  few  days'  journey.  Thus,  from  the 
lake-meadow,  which  was  not  really  Klamath  Lake  of 
Southern  Oregon,  but  was  only  Klamath  Marsh,  north 

212 


SOUTHWARD  FOR  THE  UNKNOWN 

of  the  lake  proper,  the  company  again  entered  the 
great  pine  forest.  Here  some  of  the  trees  were  five 
and  six  feet  through,  at  the  base. 

That  night  the  thermometer  dropped  to  zero. 
Among  fallen  timber  and  in  snow  sometimes  a  foot 
deep  the  morning  march  was  made,  the  overworked 
mules  tugging  at  the  heavy  howitzer.  Then  was  heard 
the  sound  of  galloping  hoo  f  s,  behind.  Everybody  turned, 
to  welcome  or  to  fight,  whichever  might  be  demanded. 
It  was  the  good-hearted  Tlamath  chief  and  a  few  other 
men,  coming  on,  along  the  trail,  through  the  myriad 
stately,  snow-weighted  pines,  to  guide  the  strangers. 

Always  amidst  pines,  and  snow,  over  a  broad 
mountain  eastward  led  the  Indians,  until  on  the  next 
day  they  explained  that  the  snow  was  growing  too 
deep  for  them,  and  the  cold  too  severe,  and  that  they 
must  turn  back.  Lieutenant  Fremont  gave  them  pres 
ents  of  scarlet  cloth,  moccasins,  etc. ;  and  spreading 
the  Flag  before  them  he  explained  its  use. 

"  This  is  the  symbol  of  the  great  nation  to  which 
we  belong,"  he  said,  by  signs.  "  Whenever  it  comes 
to  you,  you  must  treat  it  well,  for  it  is  friendly  to  you. 
You  and  it  are  friends." 

Whereupon  the  Tlamaths  nodded  wisely.  As  if  in 
remembrance,  they  ever  have  been  at  peace  with  the 
white  race;  although  their  cousins,  the  Modocs,  badly 
treated  by  the  white  immigrants,  finally  fought  a 
great  fight,  among  their  lava  beds,  in  1873. 

The  Tlamaths,  or  Klamaths,  left  for  their  snug 

213 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

grass  huts  in  the  lake-meadow.  Travelling  now  by 
compass  into  the  unknown,  down  from  the  bleak  moun 
tain  and  across  a  level  valley  and  up  another  bleak 
mountain,  eastward  toiled  the  company.  Ever  the 
course  lay  through  constant,  silent  pines,  where  the 
snow  sifted  thickly,  with  no  breeze  bearing  it,  or  where, 
three  feet  deep  and  crusted,  it  cut  the  legs  of  the 
animals. 

Thus,  in  long  single  file  of  men  and  of  animals, 
exhausted  and  apparently  lost,  the  cattle  laboring  heav 
ily,  the  Fremont  expedition  to  the  Buenaventura  tra 
versed  the  gloomy  stretch  of  high,  unceasing,  snow- 
enshrouded  but  gloomy  forest,  where  apparently  man 
had  never  been  before.  Suddenly  the  lieutenant,  lead 
ing,  spoke  to  Kit  Carson,  just  behind. 

"Aren't  the  trees  thinning,  in  front,  there,  Kit?" 

Hope  was  in  his  voice. 

"  Yes,  sir.    I  believe  they  air,  captain." 

"  Come  on,  boys,"  called  the  lieutenant,  cheerily. 
"  We're  getting  out."  And  he  spurred  forward  his 
horse.  Spurred  forward  all. 

Sure  enough,  ahead  the  atmosphere  was  distinctly 
lighter.  The  lieutenant  was  first  to  reach  the  spot; 
he  reined  in  his  horse,  Proveau  the  buffalo-runner,  and 
craned  as  if  gazing  down.  He  uttered  a  loud  shout, 
and  waved  his  hat ;  shouted  and  waved  Kit  Carson,  the 
next  to  arrive.  Mr.  Preuss  the  German  joined  in  the 
excitement;  joined  Godey  and  Jacob  and  even  the 
Chinook,  and  when  it  came  Oliver's  turn  he  also  joined. 

J314 


SOUTHWARD  FOR  THE  UNKNOWN 

For  they  all  were  ranged  upon  a  rim  of  a  great  wall — 
a  great  wall  of  sheer  rock,  piled  with  snow  and  bitten 
by  icy  wind,  while  below,  a  thousand  feet,  was  an 
enchanted  summer-land ! 

Here  was  a  lovely  blue  lake,  in  the  midst  of  a 
lush  green  prairie  enveloped  by  warm  sunshine;  while 
up  above,  on  the  top  of  the  precipice,  reigned  snow 
and  ice  and  stormy  sky.  Scarce  could  they  believe  their 
eyes. 

"  Don't  see  any  trees,  to  speak  of,  down  there," 
mused  Lieutenant  Fremont,  as  shivering  they  gazed, 
admiring  the  scene.  "  That  looks  to  me  like  the  Great 
Basin,  at  last.  We  must  be  on  the  edge  of  it.  It 
extends  on  east  to  the  Salt  Lake/' 

"Ain't  we  gwine  down  to  summah,  lieutenant?" 
queried  Jacob  the  colored  youth,  anxiously,  his  teeth 
chattering.  "  I'se  stone  stiff." 

"  So  am  I,  Jacob,"  answered  the  lieutenant,  laugh 
ing.  "  Of  course  we're  going  down.  Who's  for 
Summer  Lake  ?  " 

"  I'm  for  getting  off  this  hyar  Winter  Ridge,"  said 
Kit  Carson. 

"That's  it— Summer  Lake  and  Winter  Ridge!" 
cried  the  lieutenant.  "  Three  cheers,  boys !  Good-by 
to  Winter  Ridge,  and  on  to  Summer  Lake !  " 

They  cheered;  and  turning  the  poor  horses  and 
mules  and  cattle  who  had  dully  been  nosing  the  snow 
or  pricking  their  ears  at  the  glimpse  of  green  below, 
they  sought  for  a  trail  down. 

215 


XVII 
SCANT  CHRISTMAS  COMFORT 


NOT  until  after  four  or  five  miles  of  close  search 
was  any  descent  at  all  discovered.  Down  they  scram 
bled,  amidst  rock  and  snow;  a  pack  mule,  slipping, 
rolled  head  over  heels  for  300  feet  until  stopped  by  a 
ravine;  the  howitzer  must  be  left  midway  of  the  steep 
trail,  for  further  effort ;  and  night  overtook  them  before 
they  reached  the  bottom. 

A  real  lake,  with  real  grass,  it  was.  By  the  lake 
were  several  dry  cedars,  which  fed  fires  to  guide  in  the 
rearmost  of  the  struggling  company.  Finally  all  were 
safe,  camp  was  pitched,  supper  was  cooked,  the  animals 
grazed  contentedly.  Above,  were  gloomy  pines  and 
snow  and  chilling  wind  of  winter;  here  below,  were 
limpid  water  and  tender  grass  and  mild  breeze,  if  not 
of  summer  then  at  least  of  spring. 

Travelling  along  the  west  shore  of  this  Summer 
Lake  in  south  central  Oregon  (Klamath  Marsh  just 
to  the  west  of  it,  and  the  ridge  between),  the  company 
rounded  the  southern  end,  and  amidst  much  recent 
Indian  sign  and  a  bleak  country  of  marsh  and  sand 
and  weeds  and  black  volcanic  rock  crossed  eastward  to 
another  large  lake.  This  is  Lake  Abert,  named  by 


SCANT  CHRISTMAS  COMFORT 

Lieutenant  Fremont  in  honor  of  his  colonel,  J.  J.  Abert, 
Chief  of  the  Corps  of  Topographical  Engineers,  United 
States  Army. 

Dignified  and  worthy  of  the  name  appeared  this 
lake,  twenty  miles  in  length,  and  spread  between  black 
ridges ;  but  as  they  drew  near,  a  shiver  passed  through 
the  column,  for  the  shores  were  drifted  high. 

"  Look  at  the  snow,  captain !  "  cried  Kit. 

When  they  drew  nearer  still  they  found  that  they 
were  barred  from  the  water  itself  by  mud.  A  sickening 
odor  filled  the  air,  and  the  drifts  of  snow  turned  out  to 
be  a  disgusting,  powdery  white  substance  banked  high 
by  evaporating  water. 

Thus  deceptive  proved  this  land  into  which  they 
had  been  lured :  a  land  of  fair  lakes  which  changed 
to  fetid  pools;  of  streams  which  led  on  until  they 
ended  only  at  the  unwholesome  lakes;  of  green  grass 
sour  and  salt-encrusted ;  and  of  bare  black  ridges  which 
gave  place  only  to  more  bare  and  black  ridges. 

The  Fremont  and  Carson  company  pushed  on, 
the  line  straggling  as  the  weakening  animals  fell  be 
hind.  Somewhere  in  this  vicinity  should  be  Mary's 
Lake;  and  beyond  should  be  the  Buenaventura,  with 
rich  grassy  bottom-lands  and  much  fat  game  to  cheer 
the  heart  of  all. 

Save  for  ducks,  on  the  mud-engirted  lakes,  and 
rabbits  in  the  sage-brush,  game  here  was  none.  In 
dian  signs,  as  trails  and  as  deserted  huts  of  brush, 
were  many.  The  expedition  must  advance  cautiously. 

217 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

From  Lake  Abert  they  moved  southward,  past  an 
other  lake  from  which  they  were  barred  by  mud,  and 
Christmas  Eve  they  camped  at  the  south  end  of  yet 
another  lake. 

"  Tain't  much  like  Christmas  Eve  down  in  Wash 
ington  or  in  old  Missouri;  is  it,  Mistuh  Fremont?" 
commented  Jacob  the  colored  youth. 

"  Oh,  well,  we'll  enjoy  our  Christmas  all  the  more, 
next  time,  Jacob,"  answered  the  lieutenant. 

"  Water  an'  grass  air  better  than  usual,  anyhow," 
vouchsafed  Kit  Carson.  "  Might  have  a  wuss  camp." 

"  'Xpect  that's  our  Christmas  gift,"  mused  Jacob. 

Around  the  camp  fires  they  all  proceeded  to  review 
the  Christmas  celebrations  such  as  they  knew;  and 
there  was  quite  a  variety:  Kit  and  Oliver  could  tell 
of  the  celebrations  by  the  Mexicans  in  New  Mexico, 
the  lieutenant  and  Jacob  could  tell  of  those  in  the 
South,  Mr.  Preuss  of  those  in  Germany,  the  St.  Louis 
French  of  those  in  St.  Louis  and  vicinity,  the  Canadian 
French  of  those  in  Canada,  Thomas  Fitzpatrick  re 
called  Christmas  in  trappers'  camp,  Mr.  Talbot  that 
at  his  American  home,  etc. 

Oliver  slept  late,  to  be  awakened  by  a  great  out 
burst  of  rifle  and  carbine  reports  mingled  with  the 
"  Bang!  "  of  the  howitzer.  "  Noel!  Noel!  "  cheered 
the  French.  "  Merry  Christmas !  "  joined  in  the  lieu 
tenant.  All  wished  each  other  the  compliments  of  the 
season,  and  "  Christmas  Lake  "  was  the  camp  place 
called.  An  extra  ration  of  sugar  was  doled  out,  as 

218 


SCANT  CHRISTMAS  COMFORT 

Christmas  feast.  For  this  was  Christmas  Day,  1843, 
in  the  desert  basin  of  south  central  Oregon. 

Southward  led  the  trail,  and  still  southward,  for  on 
the  west  the  snowy  mountain  range  hedged  close  the 
course,  and  on  the  east  the  country  was  ever  desolate 
and  repulsing.  No  Indians  were  seen  until,  December 
28,  smokes  were  suddenly  descried  rising  above  the 
snowy  sage-brush.  On  at  a  gallop  urged  the  party, 
and  came  so  quickly  to  two  huts,  rudely  built,  open 
at  the  top,  that  the  sage  fires  were  burning  in  them 
and  baskets  and  rabbit  skins  and  grass  were  scattered 
about.  Now  several  almost  naked  Indians  were  visible, 
upon  the  near-by  ridge,  and  others  were  hastily 
climbing  to  them. 

"Tabibo-bo!  Tabibo-bo!"  they  shouted— or,  in 
the  Snake  language:  "White!  White!"  And  they 
tried  to  conceal  themselves  among  the  rocks. 

For  them  galloped  Kit  Carson,  fearless,  holding  up 
his  hand  as  token  of  parley.  Just  as  fearless,  Alex 
ander  Godey  dashing  out  caught  him,  and  they  con 
tinued  together.  They  made  a  fine  sight,  these  two 
gracefully  riding  mountain-men — Godey  with  his 
floating  locks  as  spectacular  as  any  Custer  of  the 
yellow  locks,  Kit  Carson,  not  so  handsome  but  more 
steady,  and  both  brave. 

The  Indian  men  ran  as  fleet  as  deer.  Turning 
back,  Kit  Carson  rode  right  upon  a  woman,  with  two 
little  children,  hiding  behind  a  sage  clump.  She 
screamed  shrilly  with  terror  and  shut  tight  her  eyes. 

219 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

He  spoke  to  her  in  Snake  tongue,  and  brought  her  to 
the  lieutenant,  at  the  huts,  where  by  presents -and  kind 
words  she  was  calmed  down. 

The  men  would  not  come  in,  but  from  the  women 
was  it  learned  that  they  were  Shoshokies,  or  Poor- 
Snakes- Who- Walk  :  Root-Diggers  of  the  Desert,  living 
upon  roots  and  rabbits  and  dressing  in  scant  rabbit- 
skins — a  wretched  people,  yet  wishing  to  be  let  alone. 

The  first  week  of  January,  1844,  had  been  used 
entirely,  and  still  there  were  no  signs  of  Mary's  Lake, 
nor  of  the  Buenaventura  River.  Since  leaving  the 
Dalles  of  the  Columbia  fifteen  horses  and  mules  had 
fallen  by  the  trail  or  had  been  stolen;  the  feet  of  the 
others  were  cut  and  bruised;  water  and  grass  con-% 
stantly  disappointed;  the  trail  was  blind;  on  the  one 
hand  were  the  mountains  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  on  the 
other  hand  was  the  interminable,  desolate  desert; 
pressing  southward,  seeking  the  line  of  least  resistance, 
marched  the  Fremont  and  Carson  men. 

The  company  advanced  cautiously,  feeling  a  route. 
By  fresh  signs  Indians  must  be  hovering  about,  watch 
ing,  but  none  was  seen.  Then,  on  the  late  afternoon 
of  January  tenth,  the  lieutenant  and  Kit  came  hurry 
ing  into  camp,  with  the  news  that  they  had  been  view 
ing  a  great  lake — a  real  deep-water  lake,  perhaps 
Mary's  Lake! 

Like  the  waves  of  this  reputed  sparkling  lake, 
swept  through  the  camp  a  wave  of  joy  and  of  hope. 
The  lake  lay  just  beyond  a  little  saddle  or  pass  which 


SCANT  CHRISTMAS  COMFORT 

closed  the  end  of  the  draw  wherein  had  been  pitched 
the  camp.  The  lieutenant  and  Kit  had  climbed  a 
crest  of  the  high  lake-shore,  the  better  to  survey ;  and 
there  they  had  sat  for  some  time,  feasting  their  eyes 
upon  the  dark-green  water,  white-capped  and  rolling. 

"But  Mary's  Lake  is  low  and  rushy,  isn't  it?" 
queried  Mr.  Talbot.  "  At  least,  so  I  understand,  from 
conversation." 

"  So  I  understand,  too,"  admitted  the  lieutenant. 

"  Wall,"  drawled  Kit;  "  we'll  see;  but  that  big  lake 
yonder  doesn't  look  to  me  like  the  Mary's  is  said  to 
look.  And  when  we  come  to  the  Buenaventura  we'll 
know  it  by  beaver  cuttings  in  it.  These  basin  streams 
have  no  beaver,  'cept  towards  their  heads  in  the  moun 
tains.  But  the  Pacific  slope  air  full  o'  beaver." 

"That's  right,"  affirmed  Thomas  Fitzpatrick. 
"  When  we  strike  a  stream  over  here  with  beaver  sign 
in  it,  it  connects  with  the  sea." 

In  the  morning  the  company  moved  forward  at  best 
pace — which  was  delayed  by  the  hobbling  pack  animals 
and  the  one  ox  who  remained.  Now  somebody — it 
was  Baptiste  Tabeau — struck  up  a  paddle  song;  and 
Godey  and  the  lieutenant  and  Kit  and  Fitzpatrick  and 
all  joined  in : 

"  Gai,  gai,  avangons  nous !  " 
they  sang. 

"  Gay,  gay,  advance  we  gay !  " 

And  Oliver's  dog  and  Tlamath,  the  other  Indian  dog, 
barked  wolfishly. 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Up  the  slope  of  the  pass  they  strove.  On  the  top 
the  snow  was  a  foot  deep,  but  below,  2000  feet,  filling 
a  wide  space  between  grim  snowy  peaks  lay  indeed  the 
lake — a  mighty  mass  of  dark-green,  tossing  and  tum 
bling.  And  one  after  another,  as  they  saw,  they 
cheered. 

Camp  was  made  at  the  foot  of  the  pass,  beside  a 
little  stream ;  as  soon  as  duties  were  performed,  every 
body  hastened  for  the  lake.  Its  shore  was  rocky,  cliff- 
skirted,  mountain-guarded;  and  its  strips  of  beach 
were  cut  short  by  towering  walls.  The  water  was 
slightly  tinged  with  salt ;  and  some  of  the  granite  boul 
ders  of  the  shore  were  coated  with  a  limy  substance. 

Indians  had  camped  here  before  the  white  ex 
plorers;  and  following  an  Indian  trail,  the  next  morn 
ing  the  company  moved  on,  to  the  lake.  A  furious 
snow-squall  hid  the  waters,  and  drove  the  surf  four 
and  five  feet  high  upon  the  beaches.  The  trail,  leading 
between  surf  and  rock-walls,  in  places  was  so  narrow 
that  the  howitzer  barely  could  pass. 

Pyramid  Lake  did  Lieutenant  Fremont  name  this 
great  water,  because  of  a  curious  rock,  sharp-tipped, 
broad-based,  like  a  pyramid,  rising  five  or  six  hundred 
feet,  out  in  the  midst  of  the  water.  And  Pyramid 
Lake  is  the  place,  to-day,  on  the  western  border  of  the 
State  of  Nevada.  The  christening  occurred  January 
14,  1844;  and  upon  the  rock-bound  shore  was  sacri 
ficed  the  last  of  the  cattle,  driven  clear  from  the  mis 
sion  station  at  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia. 

222 


SCANT  CHRISTMAS  COMFORT 

Pyramid  Lake  certainly  did  not  'resemble  any 
description  of  any  Mary's  Lake.  An  Indian  clad  in 
hare-skins  as  in  a  cloak  was  persuaded  to  the  camp; 
three  or  four  more  Indians  were  met  on  the  trail  along 
the  lake  shore ;  and  a  chief  invited  the  white  men  to  his 
village,  in  a  cottonwood  grove  at  the  mouth  of  a  river 
emptying  into  the  lake.  As  the  company  approached 
the  village,  the  chief  called  in  a  loud  voice,  and  many 
Indians,  with  bows  and  arrows,  appeared  from  hiding 
in  the  brush. 

Here,  at  last,  was  a  camp  of  plenty,  for  after  the 
Fremont  and  Carson  company  had  taken  a  strong  posi 
tion  in  a  grassy  bottom  of  a  bend  of  the  river,  Alex 
ander  Godey  uttered  a  loud  shout,  and  pointed.  An 
Indian  was  coming,  bearing  a  fish !  And  what  a  fish — 
pink,  and  broad,  and  more  than  three  feet  long! 

Eagerly  the  white  men  (and  Jacob)  gathered  around 
the  Indian.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  trading  his  fish 
for  a  strip  of  scarlet  cloth,  and  away  he  trotted  to  bring 
another.  Other  Indians  came  hurrying,  with  fish  to 
trade;  so  that  speedily  the  business  was  brisk.  Never 
were  fish  taken  to  a  better  market. 

Mr.  Preuss  and  the  lieutenant  pronounced  them  a 
salmon  trout,  probably  of  flesh  very  savory  and  whole 
some.  Soon  every  man  (not  omitting  Oliver)  had  his 
fish,  and  was  cooking  it.  Some  tried  roasting,  some 
broiling,  some  frying;  the  air  was  full  of  the  rich 
fumes.  Having  exhausted  their  supply,  the  Indians 
were  running  to  the  river,  to  spear  more. 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Several  of  the  Indians  wore  ornaments  of  brass 
'buttons,  as  if  from  the  whites.  However,  as  the  village 
spoke  a  dialect  of  the  Snake  tongue  hard  to  under 
stand,  although  Kit  Carson  and  Godey  and  Thomas 
Fitzpatrick  did  their  best  with  the  sign  language,  little 
information  was  extracted.  The  next  morning  the 
march  was  resumed,  up  this  Salmon  Trout  River. 


XVIII 
FORCING  THE  SNOWY  SIERRAS 


No  beaver  cuttings  were  found  upon  any  of  the 
streams.  High  and  cold  on  the  right  continued  the 
long  tier  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  mountains — sometimes 
white  and  shining,  sometimes  dimmed  by  fresh  storm; 
blotched  by  snow,  welted  with  bare  ridges,  brushy  and 
bleak  on  the  left  stretched  for  leagues  unknown  the 
desert  of  the  Great  Basin :  pent  betwixt  the  two,  south 
ward  through  the  mid-winter  pushed  the  wearied  Fre 
mont  and  Carson  men.  Around  about,  on  every  hand, 
welled  into  the  frosty  air  the  signal  smokes  of  unseen 
peoples. 

Now  on  the  third  day,  which  was  January  18,  after 
leaving  Pyramid  Lake,  the  lieutenant  called  a  council, 
of  Kit  Carson,  and  Fitzpatrick  the  Bad  Hand,  and 
the  German  Preuss,  and  Mr.  Talbot  the  Washington 
young  man,  Alexander  Godey,  Baptiste  Bernier,  and 
one  or  two  others. 

"I  teenk,"  said  Baptiste  Tabeau,  "  Meester  the 
Lieutenant,  he  would  try  to  cross  the  mountains  to 
other  side,  where  all  is  warm.  Kit  Carson  say  it  very 
warm,  with  much  grass  an'  horse  an'  deer  over  that 
side.  Ma  foi "  and  Baptiste,  who  always  was  one 

15  225 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

of  the  j  oiliest  of  the  company,  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
shiveringly.  "  I  hope  we  go." 

"  That  snow  look  mighty  deep,  on  those  big  moun 
tains/'  uttered  Jacob  the  colored  youth.  "  But  I  guess 
we  gwine  to  freeze  to  deff  as  easy  as  we  gwine  to  starve 
to  deff.  Marse  Lieutenant  an'  Mistuh  Kit'll  get  us 
through,  though." 

The  council  broke  up ;  Thomas  Fitzpatrick,  hasten 
ing  to  look  after  the  animals,  which  were  in  his  charge, 
made  the  announcement. 

"  We  cross  to  the  Valley  of  the  Sacramento,  boys," 
he  informed,  passing  through. 

At  the  news  a  cheer  rang  out.  Kit  Carson  added  to 
the  enthusiasm,  that  night,  around  the  camp  fires  of 
cottonwood  and  sage. 

"  I  war  in  the  Valley  o'  the  Sacramento,  summer  o' 
Twenty-nine,  with  Ewing  Young,"  he  related.  "  We'd 
crossed  the  desert  from  Touse.  That  war  my  fust 
trapping  trip,  an'  it  war  fifteen  year  an'  more  ago; 
since  then  I've  travelled  pretty  much  over  all  the  West, 
hunting  the  beaver,  but  I  tell  you,  boys,  that  thar 
country  o'  the  Calif orny  coast  beats  all.  We  entered 
from  the  south,  an'  followed  down  the  San  Joachin, 
to  the  Sacramento,  an'  trapped  that  a  ways;  an'  the 
beaver  an'  the  otter  an'  the  wild  hosses  an'  the  elk  an' 
the  deer  an'  the  trees  an'  the  forage  war  something 
wonderful.  It  snows  on  the  mountains,  we  heard  tell, 
but  down  in  the  valleys  it  air  green  an'  spring-like  all 


FORCING  THE  SNOWY  SIERRAS 

winter;  a  fat  country.  Thar's  whar  we're  heading, 
to-morrow." 

"  Hooray !  "  they  cheered,  again.  "  No  more  bad 
water  and  salt  grass  and  starvation  trail  for  us. 
Hooray!" 

So  the  expedition  turned  west,  for  the  towering 
white  peaks  not  far. 

While  they  were  seeking  for  a  pass  (their  eyes 
still  eager  to  mark  the  least  trace  of  the  Buenaventura) , 
a  strange  figure  came  running  down  a  draw.  While 
his  legs  worked  steadily,  he  held  up  an  arm  as  signal. 
He  was  an  old  Indian,  partially  naked.  He  did  not 
slacken  until,  out  of  breath,  he  had  seized  with  one 
hand  the  first  hand  that  he  could  reach,  while  with 
the  other  he  extended  a  little  skin  bag,  as  an  offering. 

When  he  was  done  panting,  and  had  been  assured 
that  he  would  not  be  killed,  he  accepted  presents  for  the 
bag  of  pine  seeds;  and  after  a  talk  in  sign  language 
he  was  hired  by  scarlet  cloth  and  beads  and  brass  to  act 
as  guide  for  two  days.  He  stated  that  he  knew  of  a 
good  pass,  westward. 

The  pass  was  not  a  pass  over  the  range ;  it  was  only 
a  pass  over  the  first  foot-hills.  More  Indians  were 
induced  by  friendly  signals  to  come  close.  They  im 
mediately  held  out  their  little  skin  sacks  of  pine  seeds. 

In  council  with  them  the  lieutenant  asked  for 
guides,  again,  over  the  mountains  to  the  country  of  the 
whites.  But  the  Indians,  squatting  like  rabbits  and 
murmuring  together,  refused.  Their  spokesman, 

22T 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

standing,  pointed  to  the  snow,  and  raised  his  palm 
to  his  chin,  and  then  raised  it  above  his  head,  to  show 
how  deep  was  the  snow.  He  signed  that  the  company 
should  travel  southward  more,  where  there  was  an 
other  pass  over  a  lower  range;  and  here,  in  one  day's 
journey,  lived  a  people  who  would  guide  through  the 
pass  of  the  great  mountains  themselves. 

For  bright  cloth  and  goods  the  Indians  agreed 
to  supply  a  guide  as  far  as  the  people  of  the  first  pass. 
Supplied  with  pine  seeds  oily  and  well-flavored  and 
as  large  as  small  nuts,  the  company  pressed  southward 
once  more,  among  the  snowy  foot-hills  of  the  eastern 
base  of  the  giant  Sierras. 

Mr.  Preuss  and  party  came  toiling  up  the  trail, 
from  a  secondary  camp  where  they  had  remained  in 
charge  of  the  baggage,  and  reported  that  the  howitzer 
was  stuck  fast.  Even  Samuel  Neal,  the  blacksmith  of 
the  expedition,  admitted  that  the  battered  cannon  was 
beyond  rescue.  Many  times  had  he  repaired  its  car 
riage,  during  the  months ;  it  had  been  his  pet ;  but  now 
he  could  do  nothing  for  it.  Sergeant  Zindel  concurred. 

"  Ach,  a  goot  gun,"  he  grunted.  "  I  would  not 
leave  it  in  battle;  but  such  snow  and  hills !  " 

Therefore,  after  its  3000  miles  of  service,  from 
St.  Louis  of  the  State  of  Missouri  to  the  Salt  Lake,  and 
to  the  Columbia,  and  down  into  the  desert,  here  upon 
the  upper  West  Walker  River  of  the  Nevada-Cali 
fornia  border  was  left  the  brass  howitzer. 

Snow  fell  heavily,  the  cold  increased;  and  all  the 


FORCING  THE  SNOWY  SIERRAS 

shivering  Indians,  except  the  young  man  guide, 
dropped  away,  to  return  to  their  village.  Frowning 
indeed  appeared  the  stormy  mountains,  where  awaited 
the  first  pass,  and  the  guide  himself  seemed  ready  to 
desert. 

"  Kit,  you  and  Godey  put  him  between  you," 
directed  the  lieutenant.  "  Show  him  your  rifles,  so 
he'll  understand." 

And  trudging  afoot,  like  the  majority  of  the  com 
pany,  to  save  the  horses,  Kit  Carson  and  Alexander 
Godey  took  each  a  side  of  the  nervous  Indian  and 
patted  their  rifle-stocks  significantly.  He  rolled  his 
eyes  in  mute  despair.  The  snowflakes  had  coated 
his  dark  skin,  for  he  sillily  carried  his  blue  and  red 
cloth  tightly  rolled,  in  a  wad,  rather  than  don  it  and 
perhaps  soil  it.  Presently  the  lieutenant  called : 

"All  right,  Kit.  Let  him  go.  The  trail  looks 
plain." 

"  Wall,"  answered  Kit;  "  mout  as  well.  He  says 
thar's  a  hut  near  whar  he'll  stay  till  after  the  storm." 
And  with  a  single  motion  of  his  arm  he  bade  the  guide 
be  free — whereupon  away  scudded  the  glad  youth,  as 
hard  as  he  could  run,  for  shelter. 

As  had  been  promised  by  the  Indians  behind,  into 
the  camp  here  at  the  inner  foot  of  the  pass  came  other 
Indians.  They  thronged,  mysteriously  as  wild  animals, 
to  the  fires;  they  were  without  fear,  and  were  very 
inquisitive.  The  lieutenant  held  again  a  council,  to 
ask  for  a  guide. 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

Kit  Carson  made  the  sign-talk  for  the  company; 
for  the  Indians  an  old  man  responded.  The  fires  blazed 
brightly,  illuminating  the  snow,  and  the  trees,  and  the 
Indians,  squatting  in  a  row  upon  logs  or  ground,  and 
the  company  lying  about,  rifles  handy.  It  was  a  wild 
scene. 

"Tell  them,"  instructed  the  lieutenant,  to  Kit, 
"  that  we  have  come  from  very  far,  almost  a  twelve 
months'  journey  to  the  east,  and  that  we  wish  only 
to  get  across  these  mountains,  into  the  country  there  of 
the  other  whites." 

Thus  Kit  did.  The  old  man  answered  more  rapidly 
even  than  speech — for  a  gesture  conveyed  a  whole 
sentence. 

"  He  says,"  translated  Kit,  "  that  we  can't  get  over, 
now.  Before  snow  fell  it  war  six  sleeps  across  to 
t'other  side,  whar  whites  live;  now  the  snow  air  over 
our  heads.  He  says  we  must  follow  this  hyar  river 
down,  an'  whar  it  empties  into  a  lake  thar  air  fish, 
an'  people,  an'  no  snow,  an'  we  can  stay  thar  till  spring. 
Reckon  he  means  that  same  lake  we  war  at — Pyramid 
Lake." 

"  Tell  him  that  we  are  strong  and  our  horses  are 
strong,  and  that  we  will  break  a  way  through  the 
snow.  Tell  him  that  we  will  give  all  this  cloth  and 
those  beads  and  other  valuables,  for  a  guide  on  across 
the  mountains  to  the  country  of  the  white  people  there." 

Kit  did,  evidently;  gesturing  as  rapidly  as  had 

030 


FORCING  THE  SNOWY  SIERRAS 

the  Indian  himself,  and  pointing  to  the  scarlet  and  blue 
cloth,  and  the  beads,  temptingly  outspread. 

"Tah-ve!  Tah-ve!"  chorused  all  the  Indians, 
shaking  their  heads.  "  Snow  !  Snow !  " 

The  old  man  plucked  from  the  ground  a  bunch 
of  dried  grass ;  he  gesticulated,  and  grunted,  and  shut 
his  eyes;  and  suddenly  he  left  the  circle,  in  a  great 
hurry. 

"  He  says/'  translated  Kit,  "  that  if  we  can  break 
the  snow,  in  three  days  we'll  come  to  whar  thar's  grass 
about  six  inches  high.  He's  been  that  fur  hunting 
elk ;  but  beyond  that  his  eyes  air  shut — he's  seen  noth 
ing.  Now  he's  gone  to  get  somebody  who's  been 
further." 

Almost  immediately  the  old  man  returned  with  a 
young  man,  and  posting  him  in  the  circle  made  a  talk 
about  him.  Kit  translated. 

"  Hyar's  a  young  man  who's  been  an'  seen  the 
whites.  The  old  man  sw'ars  by  the  sky,  an'  by  the 
ground,  that  it  air  the  truth.  Mebbe  we  can  get  this 
buck  to  be  guide.  I'll  try." 

"  Melo,  melo,"  insisted  the  old  man. 

"  Melo,  melo,"  nodded  the  young  man. 

And 

"  Melo,  melo,"  grunted  all  the  squatting  semi 
circle. 

''  That  must  mean  *  friend,'  "  mused  the  lieutenant. 
'  Melo  '  for  friend ;  '  tah-ve '  for  snow ;  we  know  two 
words,  anyway." 

231 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  Yes,  he  says  he'll  go,  if  we  give  him  enough." 
announced  Kit,  after  a  talk  with  the  young  man. 

"  Tell  him  we'll  give  him  blankets  and  scarlet  cloth 
and  beads  and  moccasins  and  leggins,  and  more.  He'll 
be  rich/'  quoth  the  lieutenant. 

The  young  man  seemed  satisfied ;  but  to  make  cer 
tain  of  him  the  lieutenant  kept  him  and  two  others  in 
the  headquarters  lodge,  that  night — with  Kit  lying 
just  within,  across  the  doorway.  And  before  they 
all  went  to  sleep,  Kit  and  the  lieutenant  showed  the 
three,  by  signs,  how  from  the  rifles  and  carbines  could 
speed  a  bullet  and  bore  them  through  and  through. 

All  the  night  raged  a  snow-storm.  In  the  morning 
the  prospect  was  not  very  inviting,  but  Lieutenant 
Fremont  made  a  short  address.  Lean  and  bronzed, 
hair  and  beard  untrimmed,  buckskin  suit  stained  and 
patched,  he  stood  slender,  erect,  undaunted,  his  voice 
sounding  with  clear  emphasis. 

"  To-day,  my  men,  we  rest  and  make  ready,"  he 
said.  "  To-morrow  we  cross.  We  might  as  well  do  it 
now,  as  at  any  time.  It  is  our  best  chance.  To  go 
back  to  the  lake,  among  savages  of  whom  we  know 
naught,  would  be  folly;  to  go  on  southward,  seeking 
some  better  passage,  would  be  folly.  Here  we  are; 
there  are  the  mountains;  just  on  the  other  side  is  the 
Valley  of  the  Sacramento.  It  can't  be  more  than  a 
hundred  miles.  We've  all  heard  Kit  tell  of  the  beauti 
ful  Valley  of  the  Sacramento,  with  its  rich  pastures  and 
its  fat  game,  where  there  is  no  winter.  Only  that 

232 


KIT  AND  THE  LIEUTENANT  SHOWED  THE  THREE,  BY  SIGNS, 
HOW  FROM  THE  RIFLES  AND  CARBINES  COULD  SPEED  A  BULLET 
AND  BORE  THEM  THROUGH  AND  THROUGH 


FORCING  THE  SNOWY  SIERRAS 

hundred  miles  away  is  summer,  men.  Think  of  it! 
Who  would  stay  here,  on  this  side,  in  winter!  My 
instruments  tell  me  (and  you  know  they  do  not  lie) 
that  directly  west  from  us,  and  less  than  one  hundred 
miles — in  fact,  about  seventy — is  the  settlement  of 
Captain  Sutter :  that  Swiss-American  who  went  down 
into  California  from  Oregon  in  Thirty-nine,  and  has 
founded  a  post  and  a  farm  in  the  Valley  of  the  Sacra 
mento.  He's  a  Missourian,  too,  and  he'll  be  glad 
to  see  us.  Why,  I'll  wager  that  from  the  top  of  the 
divide,  yonder,  we  can  see  into  the  very  valley.  One 
strong  effort,  lads — one  more  strong  effort,  and  we'll 
be  in  the  midst  of  plenty.  Will  you  follow  the  guide  ?  " 

"  Hooray ! "  they  cheered.  "  Hooray  for  the 
Sacramento  and  summer  doings !  " 

"How  about  it,  boy?"  asked  Kit,  pausing  as  he 
passed  Oliver.  "  Do  you  wish  you'd  gone  back  to 
Touse  with  Ike?" 

"  No,"  asserted  Oliver,  stoutly,  as  with  stiffened 
fingers  he  stitched  at  his  ragged  moccasin,  to  repair  it. 

"  Thar's  the  lieutenant.  I  reckon  he  wants  you  a 
minute,"  continued  Kit,  rubbing  his  chin  thoughtfully 
as  he  surveyed  Oliver. 

Lieutenant  Fremont  beckoned.  Oliver  went  over 
to  him. 

"  Boy,  we're  about  out  of  meat,  except  for  the 
animals  which  we  need  to  break  the  trail,  and  for  a 
couple  of  rabbits ;  and  we  ought  to  be  strong  to  make 
a  good  start,  in  the  morning.  The  men  of  your  mess 

233 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

ask  if  they  may  kill  your  dog,  so  that  we  can  eat. 
He's  grown  fat,  I  notice,  while  the  rest  of  us  have  been 
growing  thin.  What  do  you  say  ?  " 

Oliver's  heart  swelled  into  his  throat,  choking  him. 

"  If — if  you  think  best,  sir,"  he  stammered.  "  But 
there's  that  other  dog.  Mine — mine  sleeps  with  me. 
He's — a — good — dog;  an  awful  good  dog." 

"  I  know  it,  Oliver,"  replied  Lieutenant  Fremont. 
"  I  know  just  how  you  feel.  But  he  may  be  the  means 
of  saving  our  lives;  he  couldn't  die  in  better  cause, 
could  he  ?  That  Tlamath  dog  is  only  a  pup ;  we  must 
save  him,  to  grow.  Probably  we'll  have  to  eat  him 

later.  But  now "  and  hesitating,  the  lieutenant 

with  his  piercing  blue  eyes  examined  Oliver  anxiously. 
"  We  wouldn't  ask  it  if  it  wasn't  necessary.  It  will  be  a 
little  sacrifice,  on  your  part,  for  the  general  good." 

"  Well "  faltered  Oliver,  his  voice  so  weak 

that  he  was  ashamed  of  it.  "  I  remember — you  and 
Kit  told  me  I  might  have  to  eat  dog;  but  I  won't  eat 
him.  I  won't!  The  rest  can."  And  quickly  turning 
away,  for  fear  that  he  was  going  to  cry,  he  stumbled 
off  among  the  trees. 

Soon  he  heard  a  shot.  That  was  it.  Now  his  dog 
never  again  would  nose  his  hand,  or  chase  rabbits,  or 
snuggle  upon  his  feet,  at  night. 

When  Oliver  sidled  back  to  camp,  trying  to  appear 
unconcerned,  as  befitted  a  mountain-man,  suspicious 
pieces  of  fat  meat  already  were  laid  out  upon  the  snow 
in  anticipation  of  the  pot. 

234 


XIX 
AT  THE  LAST  GASP 


Now  was  it  the  dawn  of  a  sharp,  clear  winter  morn 
ing,  February  2,  1844,  in  the  Fremont  and  Carson  rude 
camp  of  one  skin  lodge  and  several  tents,  on  the  upper 
water  of  the  Carson  River,  at  the  Nevada-California 
line.  Oliver  awakened  early,  under  his  buffalo-robe 
brought  from  Taos :  awakened  to  the  crackle  of  camp 
fire,  the  stir  of  stiff  figures,  and  the  sight  of  Jacob  the 
colored  youth  hurrying  with  a  tin  cup  of  steaming 
coffee  for  the  lieutenant  in  the  skin  lodge.  Jacob 
always  tried  to  do  this — to  get  the  coffee  there  before 
the  lieutenant  his  master  was  dressed.  He  explained 
that  such  was  the  custom  in  the  south:  the  members 
of  the  family  had  coffee  served  to  them  before  they 
were  up. 

Oliver  awakened  to  another  knowledge.  This  was 
the  day  when  the  main  range  of  the  Sierras  was  to  be 
assaulted.  Everywhere  the  fresh  snow  lay  deep  and 
trackless ;  the  eastern  sky  was  pink,  and  about  the  white 
peaks  of  the  Sierras,  high  and  close  in  the  west,  the 
clouds  were  breaking  into  filaments. 

Oliver  tumbled  out  of  his  coverings.  At  a  little 
distance  the  half-frozen  horses  and  mules  stood 

035 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 


hunched,  tails  to  the  breeze,  or  were  pawing  for  herb 
age.  Kit  Carson  was  up,  Thomas  Fitzpatrick  was  up, 
the  Indian  guide  was  up.  He  had  not  escaped.  A 
glorious  figure  he  made,  as  equipped  with  new  moc 
casins  and  leggins,  with  trousers  and  a  shirt,  with  blue 
and  scarlet  cloth  and  a  large  green  blanket  over  all, 
he  stood  by  a  fire. 

Lieutenant  Fremont  emerged  in  haste  from  the 
lodge,  and  nodded  to  the  Indian — whereupon  the  In 
dian  pointed  to  the  vasty  white  pinnacles  of  the  moun 
tains,  and  with  a  grunt  shook  his  head.  The  lieutenant 
paid  no  attention  to  such  weak  spirit.  His  voice  vivi 
fied  the  camp,  and  all  was  hustle. 

"  Now  for  summer  doings,  boys,"  encouraged  Kit 
Carson,  as  after  breakfast,  with  packs  in  place  and 
every  man  resolved,  the  procession  wended  forth 
through  the  snow. 

"  Now  for  the  Calif orny  Valley  an'  summer  do 
ings  !  "  they  answered. 

The  snow  had  drifted  and  speedily  grew  deeper;  so 
that  ten  men,  on  the  strongest  horses,  were  put  in  the 
van  to  break  a  trail.  Thus  work  began  early.  As  oft 
as  the  horse  of  the  leader  was  exhausted,  his  rider 
turned  out,  for  the  rear,  and  the  next  rider  took  his 
place. 

Huts  entirely  covered  by  snow,  where  Indians 
lived  like  field  mice,  were  passed :  the  only  sign  of  in 
habitant  was  the  single  trail  from  the  hole  of  a  door 
to  the  foot  of  a  pine  tree,  and  back. 

236 


AT  THE  LAST  GASP 

"  Guide  says  the  deepest  snow  air  jest  beginning," 
on  the  third  day .  announced  Kit,  with  the  advance,  to 
the  lieutenant. 

"  There's  no  use  trying  to  bring  the  animals  on 
here,  to-night,"  declared  the  lieutenant,  snow-covered 
and  panting.  Snow-covered  and  panting  were  all. 
"  Oliver,  ride  down  and  tell  Fitzpatrick  to  camp  at 
those  springs  where  we  were  last  night;  it's  more 
sheltered.  We'll  camp  where  we  are." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Oliver. 

He  met  Thomas  Fitzpatrick,  red-faced,  snowy, 
working  like  a  Trojan  to  keep  the  horses  and  mules 
moving,  and  delivered  the  message.  He  did  not  stay, 
for  the  camp  by  the  springs  in  the  sheltered  basin. 
He  turned  about;  maybe  the  lieutenant  and  Kit  and 
Mr.  Preuss  and  Godey  and  Bernier  would  need  him. 

The  camp  of  the  advance  squad  had  been  made, 
without  tents,  in  a  group  of  huge  pines.  Against  the 
base  of  one  of  the  pines  a  generous  fire  was  blazing; 
and  when  Oliver  arrived,  tired  and  cold  and  glad  of  the 
fire,  another  old  Indian  visitor  was  delivering  an 
oration. 

He  spoke  loudly,  in  a  sing-song  manner;  and  he 
spoke  long. 

"  He  says,"  announced  Kit,  "  that  we  an'  our  crit 
ters  can't  go  further,  this  way.  We'll  perish,  sure. 
We  must  turn  back,  an'  he'll  show  us  a  better  way. 
Rock  upon  rock — rock  upon  rock ;  snow  upon  snow — 
snow  upon  snow :  that's  ahead  of  us.  If  we  get  over, 

237 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

we  can't  get  down  on  t'other  side;  thar  air  precipices 
whar  our  hosses'll  slip,  an'  off  we'll  go." 

'  Yes ;  I  understood  his  signs,  and  most  of  his 
words,"  remarked  the  lieutenant,  quietly.  "  But  we're 
white  men.  We're  not  afraid." 

The  Chinook  lad  from  the  mission,  who  had  kept 
close  by  the  lieutenant,  had  understood  the  signs  and 
words  even  better  than  had  Kit  Carson;  and  now 
he  began  to  wail  aloud. 

"  I  wanted  to  see  the  whites,"  he  lamented,  brok 
enly.  "  I  came  away  from  my  own  people  to  see  the 
whites.  I  would  not  mind  dying  among  the  whites, 
but  to  die  here — ow-ow-ow-ow,"  and  shuddering  he 
drew  his  blanket  over  his  head.  From  underneath  it 
his  wail  resumed,  muffled  and  weird. 

"  You  ought  to  have  stayed  down  below,  in  the 
Fitz  camp,"  reminded  Kit,  of  Oliver.  "  It'll  be  a  cold 
night,  hyar,  I  tell  you." 

And  it  was.  The  lieutenant  said  that  the  ther 
mometer  was  ten  above;  but  a  wind  set  in,  sifting 
through  the  tree  trunks,  blowing  aside  the  heat,  and 
penetrating  blankets  and  buckskins.  The  trees 
creaked  and  sighed;  the  Chinook  wailed;  more  biting 
waxed  the  air;  and  nobody  slept  much. 

When  Oliver  turned  out  early,  to  do  his  share  in 
looking  after  the  shrunken  horses  and  mules,  the  In 
dian  guide  was  pressing  to  the  fire,  to  be  warmer; 
under  all  his  unaccustomed  clothing  of  shirt  and 
trousers  and  red  and  blue  cloth  and  green  blanket  he 

238 


AT  THE  LAST  GASP 

was  shivering  violently.  Chancing  to  glance  back, 
Oliver  saw  Lieutenant  Fremont  throw  his  own  army 
blanket  over  the  Indian's  shoulders  already  once 
blanketed;  and  when  Oliver  returned,  within  fifteen 
or  twenty  minutes,  from  the  horses,  he  found  the 
camp  much  indignant.  The  Indian  guide  had  disap 
peared,  blankets  and  all ! 

The  day  was  spent  in  bringing  up  the  animals,  and 
in  making  snow-shoes  and  sledges.  The  next  morning 
the  lieutenant,  with  Thomas  Fitzpatrick  and  Kit  and 
others,  snow-shoed  ahead,  to  reconnoitre  along  the 
pass  which  the  guide  had  pointed  out  before  he  had 
deserted.  They  came  back,  in  the  darkness,  scarcely 
able  to  drag  their  feet,  but  they  brought  good  news. 
They  had  looked  over  into  a  large  valley,  distant  but 
snowless.  Kit  had  recognized  the  valley  as  the  Valley 
of  the  Sacramento. 

"  I  know  it !  "  he  declaimed,  still  much  delighted. 
"  I  know  it  by  a  little  round  mountain.  Fifteen  years 
ago  I  marked  that  little  mountain,  when  I  war  in  the 
valley;  an'  I  remember  it  jest  as  plain  as  if  it  war  only 
yesterday." 

"How  far?     How  far?"  demanded  all,  eagerly. 

"Thirty  miles,  isn't  it,  Kit?"  answered  the 
lieutenant. 

"  I  should  say  that — an'  more,"  mused  Kit, 
thoughtfully. 

"  So  should  I,"  agreed  Fitzpatrick.  "  We  aren't 
there,  yet,  boys ;  over  the  ridge  and  down  means  some 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

long  marches,  through  the  snow.  The  snow's  likely  to 
be  heavier,  on  the  west  side.  But  now  we  know  where 
we're  travelling." 

"  From  the  ridge  we  could  make  out,  through  the 
glass,  prairies  and  the  line  of  a  river  bordered  with 
timber,"  explained  the  lieutenant.  "  But  as  Fitz  says, 
there  are  some  hard  marches  ahead." 

So  there  were.  By  sledges  and  snow-shoes  the 
trail  was  resumed,  every  heart  aglow  with  pictures  of 
the  Valley  of  the  Sacramento ;  but  on  the  level  the  snow 
was  five  feet  deep,  and  in  drifts  was  twenty  feet  deep. 
The  animals  failed,  and  must  be  left  at  each  pasture, 
while  with  wooden  mauls  and  shovels  the  men  flattened 
a  road,  and  with  pine  boughs  paved  it. 

The  puppy  Tlamath  must  be  added  to  the  larder, 
so  that  for  the  advance  there  was  a  strange  dinner, 
one  night,  of  dog  (cooked  by  Alexander  Godey  Indian- 
fashion,  in  pieces  hide  on),  mule,  and  dried-pea  soup! 

Now  was  it  the  close  of  two  weeks  since  from  the 
preparatory  camp  had  the  start  been  made.  The  crest 
of  the  pass  had  just  been  reached,  for  on  February  16, 
returning  from  a  scout  ahead,  the  lieutenant  and  Jacob 
reported  that  they  had  come  upon  a  creek  flowing  west, 
toward  the  Pacific ! 

As  they  descended,  seeking  to  travel  while  yet  the 
night's  crust  was  unmelted,  more  plentiful  waxed  the 
snow,  more  difficult  the  trail,  intersected  by  drifts  and 
ridges.  However,  the  lieutenant  was  convinced  that 
the  little  stream  discovered  by  himself  and  Jacob  was 

240 


AT  THE  LAST  GASP 

the  river  upon  which,  lower,  would  be  found  the  ranch 
of  Captain  Sutter  the  Swiss-American  settler.  The 
welcome  sound  of  a  thunder-storm  in  the  valley,  dis 
tant,  drifted  up  to  the  company's  rejoicing  ears;  and 
when  the  storm  had  cleared,  the  sunset  revealed  a 
shining  spot,  as  if  denoting  a  bay,  and  a  shining  line, 
as  if  of  a  river, "connecting  with  it. 

The  Valley  of  the  Sacramento,  and  the  Bay  of  San 
Francisco ! 

That  night,  to  the  yearning,  keen-eyed  wanderers 
so  high  above  this  spring-land,  appeared  in  the  valley 
numerous  fires,  as  if  in  answer  to  the  fires  of  the  camp. 
Thereafter,  by  day  and  by  night  these  fires  were  visi 
ble;  but  the  Fremont  and  Carson  men  learned,  later, 
that  they  were  simply  the  fires  of  Indians  in  the 
swamps  of  the  bay  shore. 

Ice  and  snow  continued.  Moccasin  soles  froze  with 
slush,  they  would  not  cling  to  the  snow  or  the  smooth 
rocks,  and  their  wearers  must  crawl.  Once  the  lieu 
tenant,  reconnoitring  with  Kit,  slipped  into  the  stream, 
now  almost  a  river,  and  without  hesitating  an  instant 
Kit  plunged  into  the  icy  water  after  him.  The  lieuten 
ant  thought  that  he  had  lost  his  gun,  in  the  fall ;  but  it 
was  found,  after  they  had  made  a  fire,  under  the  bank. 

Nevertheless,  the  trail  was  perceptibly  lower.  The 
stream  had  swelled  to  a  torrent ;  the  ground  was  soft ; 
green  grass,  birds,  and  oaks  appeared,  and  a  mild 
breeze  swirled  the  dry  oak  leaves  covering  the  ground. 

16  241 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

This  was  glorious;  but  the  worn-out  animals  were 
being  killed,  for  food. 

Lieutenant  Fremont  announced  that  they  had  de 
scended  from  an  elevation  of  9338  feet  to  one  of  3864 
feet.  He  said  that  in  the  morning  he  and  a  squad 
would  push  on,  by  forced  marches,  for  the  ranch  of 
Captain  Sutter  which  could  not  be  very  far;  and  that, 
having  obtained  provisions,  they  would  hasten  back 
to  meet  the  main  party. 

"  Preuss,  Talbot,  Jacob,  Kit,  Derosier,  Townes, 
Proue,"  named  the  lieutenant,  calling  off  the  detail; 
and  Oliver  settled  down,  disappointed,  for  he  had 
hoped  to  go. 

He  made  no  remark,  and  tried  to  appear  uncon 
cerned  ;  but  the  lieutenant  must  have  read  his  thoughts. 

"  Is  the  boy  strong  enough  ?  We  should  take  only 
the  strongest  men  and  the  best  of  the  horses,"  spoke 
the  officer,  aside,  to  Kit. 

"  Wall/'  drawled  Kit,  reflectively,  eyeing  Oliver, 
"  you  know  it's  pretty  hard  to  tucker  out  a  boy.  He'll 
stand  more'n  a  man." 

"  And  Oliver,"  detailed  the  lieutenant,  as  if  con 
cluding  his  list. 

Oliver  grinned,  with  cracked  lips  but  glad  heart. 

The  morning  was  that  of  February  25.  The  first 
ride  was  one  of  twelve  miles,  down  the  river  valley  to 
some  old  Indian  huts.  Here,  by  a  field  of  juicy  grass, 
camp  was  located;  the  animals  were  turned  out,  and 
from  that  moment  until  daybreak  they  never  ceased 

242 


AT  THE  LAST  GASP 

their  steady  grazing.  Throughout  the  afternoon  and 
the  night  could  be  heard  the  constant  champing  of  their 
jaws.  The  lieutenant  seemed  to  take  much  pleasure 
in  sitting,  as  long  as  daylight  lasted,  and  watching 
them  eat. 

The  next  camp  was  different.  Rain  forced  the 
march  from  the  river  trail  to  the  higher  ground,  until 
nightfall;  and  then  camp  was  made  without  good 
grass — which,  combined  with  the  rain,  appeared  to 
plunge  the  poor  animals  into  the  depths  of  gloom. 

"  This  won't  do,"  declared  Kit.  "  This  won't  do, 
captain..  These  critters  air  jest  on  the  narrow  edge 
'twixt  life  an'  death,  an'  they've  got  to  have  forage  an' 
rest  every  night,  to  carry  'em  through  the  next  day. 
It's  dangerous,  missing  grass." 

That  was  true.  Now  Proveau  the  buffalo-runner 
could  not  keep  up,  and  dropped  behind.  Jacob  was 
left  by  the  lieutenant  to  bring  him  along  slowly,  while 
the  squad  went  on,  seeking  a  camping  place.  Lunch 
was  a  boiled  mule-head.  It  furnished  a  soup. 

Jacob  arrived  without  Proveau;  but  he  brought 
Charles  Townes,  who  worn  down  by  the  long  priva 
tions  was  becoming  crazed.  Just  at  nightfall,  when 
all  were  well-nigh  despairing  for  the  lives  of  the  few 
horses  and  mules  remaining,  the  inspiring  call  of  Kit 
Carson,  on  before,  in  the  dark  ravine,  echoed  back. 

"  This  way !  "  he  cried.  And  as  they  drove  the 
staggering  animals  for  him :  "  Life  yet !  Life  yet, 

243 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

boys!  Here's  a  hill-side  sprinkled  with  grass  enough 
for  the  night !  " 

Hurrah  for  Kit — tireless,  hard-working,  never- 
say-die  Kit! 

Proveau  the  buffalo-runner,  Charles  Townes'  fine 
young  horse  from  the  Columbia  River  supply,  and  an 
other  Indian  horse  packed  with  the  cooking  utensils 
failed  to  join  the  herd;  so  that  the  next  day  some  of 
the  men  were  sent  back  after  them  or  any  others  that 
had  strayed.  Baptiste  Derosier  appointed  himself  to 
bring  in  Proveau. 

Oliver  remained  at  camp,  in  the  gorge,  to  guard 
the  herd.  The  lieutenant  and  Kit  Carson  climbed  as 
high  as  they  could,  for  a  view;  and  reported  that 
beyond  the  timber  the  valley  seemed  to  be  as  far  as 
ever! 

Baptiste  and  Proveau  did  not  get  in,  that  night; 
and  Baptiste  did  not  overtake  the  march,  the  day  fol 
lowing.  It  was  feared  that  he  had  become  lost. 
Charles  Townes  was  still  crazy,  and  insisted  upon 
swimming  in  the  icy  river;  he  imagined  that  this  was 
summer-time.  At  evening  Baptiste  trudged  weakly  in. 
He  sat  down  by  the  camp  fire  and  began  to  tell  of  sev 
eral  days*  wanderings — as  if  he  had  been  gone  a  long 
while. 

The  country  was  improving,  with  much  grass,  and 
flowers  and  butterflies,  and  acorns  to  eat;  and  Mr. 
Preuss  walked  on  ahead  of  the  squad,  to  sketch  the 
route.  That  night  he  did  not  return  to  camp.  The 

Mi 


AT  THE  LAST  GASP 

next  day  they  found  his  trail,  and  they  shouted  and 
fired  guns;  but  the  only  response  they  received  was 
from  an  Indian,  who  in  the  mutual  astonishment  ran 
away. 

The  march  must  be  continued ;  but  although  search 
right  and  left  and  on  the  back  trail  was  made  for 
Mr.  Preuss,  no  sign  of  him  was  discovered.  The  lieu 
tenant  and  Kit  grew  worried;  Mr.  Preuss  had  been 
unarmed,  and  no  one  could  tell  what  the  Indians  might 
have  done  to  him. 

Not  until  the  evening  of  the  third  day  did  Mr. 
Preuss  turn  up.  While  in  a  beautiful  camp  among 
live-oaks  of  the  river  valley  they  all  heard  a  faint  shout 
from  the  hills  behind — and  Kit,  sharp-eyed,  cried, 
instantly : 

"There  he  is!    I  see  him!" 

It  was  Mr.  Preuss,  with  wavering  strides  descend 
ing  for  the  camp.  They  had  little  to  offer  him,  except 
some  roasted  acorns  bought  from  Indians.  He,  on 
his  part,  had  a  story  to  tell.  He  had  eaten  roots,  and 
ants,  and  raw  little  frogs,  and  had  tried  to  smoke 
live-oak  leaves;  and  one  night,  in  the  timber,  he  had 
sought  out  two  wolves,  thinking  that  they  were  Indian 
dogs.  At  last  he  had  met  several  Indians,  who  seemed 
afraid  of  him  but  had  given  him  roasted  acorns.  Soon 
after,  he  had  struck  the  trail  of  the  squad,  and  now 
here  he  was. 

All  this  time  the  march  of  the  squad  had  been  fol 
lowing  down  the  course  of  the  south  or  main  fork  of 

245 


JVITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

the  American  River  of  Northern  California,  as  it 
rushes  from  the  high  western  slope  of  the  Sierras  for 
the  Sacramento.  Almost  at  the  spot  where  Mr.  Preuss 
rejoined  his  anxious  comrades  was  discovered,  in  scant 
four  years,  or  on  January  24,  1848,  the  placer  gold 
of  California,  and  quickly  as  spread  the  tidings  down 
poured,  from  the  Sierras,  by  the  Fremont  and  Carson 
trail,  the  e,ager  Forty-niners. 

Mr.  Preuss  had  rejoined  the  squad  on  March  5. 
Only  about  half  the  necessary  saddle  animals  were  left, 
but  these  were  strong  enough,  now,  to  carry  riders; 
and  four  and  five  at  a  time  the  squad  rode,  each  divis 
ion  for  an  hour.  Deer  were  seen,  near  at  hand;  the 
order  was,  not  to  pause  for  them,  or  for  anything,  but 
to  press  on,  press  on,  for  Sutter's  ranch,  and  rescue. 

Gold  was  plentiful,  but  it .  was  the  gold  of  the 
California  poppy  covering  the  sward.  The  land  was 
gay  with  flowers,  and  dignified  with  stately  oaks. 
Tracks  of  horses  and  cattle  were  followed,  to  an  In 
dian  village,  some  of  whose  inmates  wore  cloth  shirts ; 
yet  no  information  was  gained.  Next,  was  expect 
antly  visited  an  adobe  house  with  glass  windows.  Only 
Indians,  apparently  ignorant,  inhabited  it.  Next,  in  a 
broad  and  grassy  valley  through  which  swept  gently 
the  noble  river,  was  entered  a  larger  Indian  village. 
Its  people  were  clean  and  wore  cotton  shirts  and  other 
factory  clothing.  One  of  the  villagers  spoke  a  little 
poor  Spanish;  but  he  said  that  there  were  no  whites 
in  that  country. 

246 


AT  THE  LAST  GASP 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  the  lieutenant,  while  the 
hearts  of  the  squad  sank. 

At  this  moment  came  riding  another  Indian,  wear 
ing  a  broad-brimmed,  peaked  straw  hat;  a  ragged 
blanket  through  a  slit  in  which  his  head  had  been 
thrust;  light-blue  cotton  trousers;  and  upon  his  bare 
heels  tremendous,  jingling  spurs.  He  sat  in  a  cumber 
some,  high-pommelled,  high-cantled  saddle,  with  huge 
block  stirrups  hollowed  out  of  solid  wood.  Upon 
his  arm  dangled  a  rawhide  riata,  or  lasso. 

"  A  su  disposition,  senors,"  he  greeted,  in  common 
Spanish.     "  At  your  service,  gentlemen." 

"  Is  this  the  Sacramento  River?  "  asked  Lieutenant 
Fremont,  in  the  Spanish. 

"  No,  senor.  It  is  the  Rio  de  los  Americanos — the 
River  of  the  Americans.  It  joins  the  Sacramento 
about  ten  miles  below." 

"  River  of  the  Americans  " !  That  sounded  good ; 
for  to  American  travellers  in  foreign  land  the  word 
"  American  "  is  sweet. 

"Where,  then,  is  the  ranch  of  Captain  Sutter?" 

"  Yonder,  senor.  I  am  a  vaquero  (cowboy)  in 
the  employ  of  Captain  Sutter.  The  people  of  this  vil 
lage  work  for  him.  His  house  is  just  over  the  hill. 
If  you  will  wait  but  a  moment,  senors,  I  myself  will 
guide  you  thither.  He  is  a  very  rich  man,  and  he  is 
always  glad  to  see  Americans." 


XX 
DOWN  THROUGH  CALIFORNIA 


THE  vaquero,  or  cowboy,  had  spoken  truly.  Be 
yond  the  hill  was  disclosed  to  view  a  large  trading 
post — larger  than  either  Bent's  Fort  or  Fort  Laramie ; 
built  of  adobe,  like  them,  and  like  them  fashioned 
with  blockhouse  corners,  it  had  location  more  attrac 
tive,  for  it  stood  amidst  wheat-fields  and  natural  ver 
dure,  beside  the  sparkling  American  River. 

"  El  Capitan  Sutter  comes,  senors,"  announced  the 
vaquero,  pointing. 

A  man  had  galloped  from  the  post  and  its  fringe 
of  out-buildings,  and  was  rapidly  approaching  the 
squad.  A  short,  stout,  German-featured  man  he  was, 
when  he  arrived:  with  rosy  complexion,  blue  eyes, 
crisp  moustache,  high  forehead,  bald  pate,  and  a  sol 
diery  way  about  him. 

"  Welcome,  gentlemen/'  he  said,  saluting.  "  Wel 
come  to  New  Helvetia.  I  am  Captain  Sutter." 

"  I  am  Lieutenant  John  C.  Fremont,  of  the  United 
States  Army,  on  a  government  survey  of  Oregon  and 
the  Great  Basin,"  explained  the  lieutenant,  shaking 
hands.  "  We've  been  forced  across  the  mountains. 
I've  left  most  of  the  company  behind,  while  with  a 

248 


DOWN  THROUGH  CALIFORNIA 

squad  I  rode  in  advance,  for  supplies.  Can  we  get 
them?" 

"  Most  assuredly.  All  you  want,"  answered  Cap 
tain  Sutter,  promptly.  "  Come  with  me." 

It  was  late  to  start  back,  to-day,  with  rescue  for  the 
Fitzpatrick  party ;  but  much  refreshed  by  the  abundant 
food  and  the  night's  lodging  at  the  hospitable  post  of 
New  Helvetia  they  took  the  back  trail,  early  in  the 
morning,  with  horses  and  provisions.  On  the  second 
day  out,  just  before  reaching  the  Forks  of  the  Ameri 
can,  they  sighted  the  Fitzpatrick  party  straggling 
along — and  a  sorry  party  that  was.  All  the  men  were 
afoot,  tottering  as  they  led  tottering  horse  or  mule. 
Oliver  thought  that  he  never  had  seen  such  skeletons 
living ;  and  then  it  occurred  to  him  that  no  doubt  his 
own  party  were  just  about  as  bad,  and  that  he  was 
accustomed  to  them. 

The  Fitzpatrick  party  were  too  weak  to  cheer ;  they 
almost  were  too  weak  to  eat;  but  the  gaunt  wan  faces 
essayed  a  smile,  and  one  or  two  hands  were  languidly 
waved.  Camp  was  at  once  made,  and  the  good  rich 
beef  and  bread  and  salmon  from  Sutter's  Fort  were 
distributed — cautiously,  that  the  greedy  Fitzpatrick 
men  should  not  over-eat. 

Thomas  Fitzpatrick,  his  ruddy  face  drawn  and 
gray  with  exhaustion,  his  white  hair  ragged,  related 
that  because  of  the  melting  snows  and  the  rains  a 
number  of  the  pack  animals  had  fallen  from  slippery 
precipices  and  had  been  killed,  their  packs  lost.  All 

249 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

told,  out  of  the  104  horses  and  mules  with  which  the 
expedition  had  left  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia  only 
thirty-three  arrived  in  the  Valley  of  the  Sacramento; 
thus  reckoned  up  Lieutenant  Fremont,  when,  on  the 
next  day,  camp  of  the  whole  company  was  established 
where  the  American  emptied  into  the  Sacramento,  two 
miles  below  New  Helvetia. 

This  New  Switzerland,  or  New  Helvetia,  as  Cap 
tain  Sutter  had  named  his  settlement,  and  which  was 
known  also  as  Sutter's  Fort,  was  a  most  interesting 
place.  The  post  walls  were  eighteen  feet  high,  enclos 
ing  a  rectangle  150  by  500  feet;  they  mounted  twelve 
cannon  and  were  garrisoned  by  forty  Indians  whom 
Captain  Sutter  (who  had  been  a  soldier  in  France) 
had  uniformed  and  drilled.  Lieutenant  Fremont  did 
not  think  much  of  the  condition  of  the  cannon,  nor 
very  highly  of  the  smartness  of  the  Indian  soldiery; 
but  all  in  all,  the  fort  was  rather  imposing,  here  in 
the  depth  of  California. 

The  jovial  captain  lived  like  a  Highland  chief. 
Kit  Carson  called  him  a  king.  Nobody  interfered  with 
him;  he  had  been  pronounced  a  Mexican  citizen,  by 
the  governor  of  Alta  California — but,  anyway,  citizen 
or  not,  he  was  too  strong  to  be  driven  out.  Besides 
the  forty  California  Indians  he  employed  thirty  white 
men — mechanics,  trappers,  farmers,  etc.;  and  all  the 
American  trappers  and  settlers  in  this  part  of  Cali 
fornia  were  free  to  make  his  settlement  headquarters. 
His  land  extended  over  thirty-three  square  miles;  it 

250 


DOWN  THROUGH  CALIFORNIA 

was  being  grazed  and  farmed;  he  possessed  4200 
cattle,  2000  horses,  1900  sheep,  and  sent  out  many 
beaver-skins  and  much  wheat.  His  house,  inside  the 
fort,  was  furnished  with  regular  chairs  and  beds  and 
tables,  of  heavy,  clumsy  manufacture,  having  been 
hand-made,  from  laurel,  at  the  former  Russian  trad 
ing  post  of  Ross,  on  the  sea-shore  westward.  He 
sent  vessels  down  the  Sacramento  and  up  to  Van 
couver.  He  operated  a  flour-mill  and  was  teaching 
the  Indians  to  weave  hats  and  blankets  and  to  farm. 
Yes,  powerful  and  rich  and  independent  was  Captain 
Johann  Augustus  Sutter,  of  New  Helvetia,  above  the 
mouth  of  the  Rio  de  los  Americanos,  Upper  Cali 
fornia.  'Twas  at  his  saw-mill,  fifty  miles  above  his 
fort,  that  was  discovered,  in  the  winter  of  1848-49, 
gold;  and  speedily  his  New  Helvetia  became  Sacra 
mento  City. 

The  two  weeks'  camp  of  the  Fremont  and  Carson 
company,  at  the  mouth  of  the  American,  was  by  no 
means  an  idle  camp,  devoted  to  sight-seeing  or  sitting 
in  the  Captain  Sutter  laurel  chairs.  Horses  and  mules 
and  cattle  were  to  be  inspected  and  bought ;  new  pack- 
saddles  to  be  put  together;  bridles  repaired,  saddles 
repaired,  ropes  repaired  or  purchased,  clothing  re 
paired  or  purchased;  Samuel  Neal  the  blacksmith 
worked  constantly  at  the  post  forge,  shaping  horse 
shoes,  bridle-bits,  nails,  etc. ;  and  the  Sutter  flour-mill, 
grinding  by  horse-power,  was  in  motion  night  and 
day  producing  flour. 

251 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 


A  short  council  at  which  Captain  Sutter  was  pres 
ent  determined  upon  the  route  home. 

"  It  would  be  folly  to  recross  the  Sierras,  here," 
stated  the  lieutenant.  "  I  suppose  the  snow  lies  on 
them  away  into  the  summer." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  assured  the  captain. 

"  I  was  thinking,  then,"  continued  the  lieutenant, 
"  of  travelling  south,  down  the  Valley  of  the  Sacra 
mento  and  up  the  Valley  of  the  San  Joachin,  that  Kit 
has  talked  so  much  about,  for  the  Joe  Walker  Pass 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  ranges.  And  then  to  strike 
the  Spanish  Trail  that  runs  from  the  Pueblo  of  Los 
Angeles  to  Santa  Fe." 

"  Very  good,"  approved  the  captain.  "  It's  a  fine, 
well-watered  country,  with  plenty  of  game,  all  the  way 
to  the  southern  passes." 

"  We're  not  liable  to  be  interfered  with,  by  the 
authorities,  are  we?"  queried  the  lieutenant.  "This 
is  Mexican  territory,  and  we  came  in  without  leave." 

"  Not  so  far  back  from  the  coast,"  answered  Cap 
tain  Sutter.  "  But  you'll  have  to  watch  sharp,  or  the 
Indians,  particularly  the  mansitos,  or  tamed  Indians, 
as  we  call  the  Indians  educated  by  the  missions,  who 
have  returned  to  wild  life,  will  steal  your  animals. 
They  are  very  bold  and  clever.  They  even  come  down 
and  try  to  steal  our  horses  at  New  Helvetia." 

"  We'll  watch,"  promised  the  lieutenant. 

"  No  white  settlements,  captain  ?  "  asked  Kit. 

"  None  inland,  any  more  than  when  you  travelled 


DOWN  THROUGH  CALIFORNIA 

through  fifteen  years  ago,  sir,"  said  Captain  Sutter. 
"  The  whole  country  back  from  the  line  of  missions, 
and  the  few  settlements,  along  the  coast,  is  a  paradise 
unused  except  as  the  haunt  of  the  Indians.  It  is  a  fair 
land  going  to  waste.  Some  Anglo-Saxon  race  should 
have  it,  and  cultivate  it.  That  race  will  be  either 
England  or  America;  mark  my  words." 

"  Let  us  hope,  America,"  responded  the  lieutenant. 

So  fair  was  this  sunny  California  that  Samuel  Neal 
the  blacksmith  and  four  others  in  the  company  asked 
to  be  discharged,  that  they  might  remain.  The  lieu 
tenant  let  them  go;  and  Samuel  entered  the  employ 
of  the  post,  at  two  dollars  and  a  half  a  day,  with 
promise  of  advance. 

"  Anybody  seen  Derosier  ?  "  demanded  Mr.  Preuss, 
through  the  camp,  on  the  day  before  departure.  Al 
ready  had  the  camp  been  moved,  in  preliminary  start, 
up  stream  a  short  distance,  to  the  ranch  of  Mr.  Sin 
clair,  former  mountain-man,  now  a  farmer. 

Nobody  had. 

"  He's  been  gone  for  three  days.  Does  anybody 
know  anything  about  him  ?  " 

Nobody  did. 

And  Baptiste  Derosier,  who  had  been  acting  oddly 
ever  since  that  day,  back  on  the  trail,  when  he  had  been 
lost,  never  was  seen  again,  nor  even  heard  of.  It  was 
thought  that  he  must  have  been  drowned,  or  else  had 
been  waylaid  by  Indians,  among  the  hills.  All  the 

253 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

company  were  sorry,  for  Baptiste  was  a  willing  worker 
and  a  "  bon  camarade." 

"  Leve !  Leve !  "  at  dawn  of  March  24  resounded 
through  the  camp  the  regulation  trapper  call  to  arise. 
To-day  was  the  start  to  be  made  in  earnest. 

With  more  horses  and  mules  than  ever,  to  the  num 
ber  of  130;  with  twenty-five  beef  cattle  and  five  milk 
cows ;  with  plenty  of  flour  and  coffee  and  sugar ;  well- 
stocked  the  expedition  might  proceed  upon  their  way. 
With  them  went  an  Indian  boy,  assigned  by  Captain 
Sutter  to  be  herder  of  the  cavvy,  for  the  horses  and 
cattle  were  almost  as  wild  as  buffalo.  It  would  take 
an  experienced  Californian  to  drive  them. 

Captain  Sutter  himself,  and  several  other  whites 
from  the  fort  escorted  the  company  a  few  miles,  to 
say  good-by  and  "  good  luck." 

Eleven  hundred  and  forty-two  miles  ,from  the 
Dalles  of  the  Columbia  or  3000  miles  from  Fort  St. 
Vrain  had  stretched  the  Fremont  and  Carson  trail 
to  New  Helvetia.  Now  from  New  Helvetia  to  Bent's 
Fort  would  be  3000  miles  more.  However,  nobody 
shrank  from  the  trail  as  planned.  All  were  strong 
again  in  body  as  they  had  been  strong  in  heart,  and 
their  ample  pack-train  gave  them  comfort.  Neverthe 
less,  for  the  first  2500  miles  of  their  journey  they  could 
expect  to  find  no  settlement  of  any  kind  save  Indian 
village. 

The  lieutenant  rode  a  splendid  iron-gray  Califor 
nian  horse,  named  Sacramento,  a  gift  from  Captain 

254 


DOWN  THROUGH  CALIFORNIA 

Sutter.  The  march  was  down  the  east  side  of  the 
Valley  of  the  Sacramento,  back  somewhat  from  the 
river;  thence  on  into  the  Valley  of  the  San  Joachin, 
which  was  companion  valley  reaching  up  from  the 
south,  to  meet  the  Valley  of  the  Sacramento  extending 
down  from  the  north.  The  country  was  all  that  it  had 
been  pictured  by  Kit  Carson,  and  promised  by  the  lieu 
tenant  :  a  country  of  brilliant  flowers,  blue  and  yellow 
and  white  and  purple,  in  great  masses ;  of  abundant  ver 
dure  and  water ;  of  great  herds  of  elk,  deer,  wild  horses 
and  cattle.  And  as  Captain  Sutter  had  declared,  it  was 
a  country  unused. 

As  they  rode,  the  lieutenant  and  Kit  waxed  more 
and  more  enthusiastic,  and  Oliver  heard  them  say  that 
here  was  where  they  hoped  some  day  to  live. 

Mindful  of  the  cautions  as  to  the  horse-stealing 
Indians,  the  march  was  made  strictly  military.  Scouts 
were  placed  ahead,  and  on  the  flanks,  to  beat  the  brush ; 
rifle-men  formed  van,  and  rear,  and  between  van  and 
rear  were  the  cavvy,  pack-animals  and  cattle.  How 
ever,  no  Indians  were  sighted  until,  on  April  8,  280 
miles  from  New  Helvetia,  at  the  banks  of  the  Tulare 
River  natives  appeared. 

As  soon  as  these  ascertained  that  the  Fremont  and 
Carson  men  were  not  California  soldiery,  they  gathered 
in  friendly  fashion,  and  brought  otter-skins,  and  fish, 
and  bread  and  acorn-flour.  They  were  dark-skinned, 
handsome  Indians.  Several  spoke  Spanish,  learned  at 
the  missions.  They  were  well-mannered — but  the  lieu- 

255 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

tenant  and  Kit  thought  best,  on  the  whole,  to  corral 
the  animals,  at  night. 

It  was  time  that  the  pass  should  be  near,  on  the 
left ;  the  pass  through  the  mountain  range,  to  the  desert. 
A  fine  broad  trail  pointed  off  to  the  southeast ;  and  upon 
being  questioned  as  to  a  pass  in  that  direction  one  of 
the  Indians  nodded,  with  a  smile  showing  white  teeth, 
and  with  a  "  Si,  senor;  buen  camino  (Yes,  sir;  good 
road)."  Following  this  trail,  on  for  the  desert  rode 
the  Fremont  and  Carson  company. 

The  landscape  was  growing  sandy  and  more  bare. 
Diverging  to  the  left,  to  ascend  along  a  creek,  the  com 
pany  entered,  not  Walker  Pass,  but  that  Tehachepi 
Pass  through  which  to-day  penetrates  from  desert  Cali 
fornia  into  valley  California  the  Santa  Fe  Railroad, 
overland  line. 

While  encamped  at  the  western  side  of  the  Teha 
chepi  Pass  the  camp  received  another  visitor.  Down 
the  pleasantly  wooded  slope  he  came  riding,  with  many 
a  jingle  and  much  graceful  sway  of  body — a  combina 
tion  of  knight-errant  and  cowboy;  and  a  romantic 
sight  he  made.  He  wore  a  large,  peaked  hat;  short 
braided  jacket  reaching  scarcely  to  his  waist;  black  vel 
vet  trousers  tight  at  the  hips,  flaring  at  the  bottoms, 
and  slashed  along  the  seams  with  white;  a  sash  of 
crimson;  yellow  goat-skin  boots  armed  with  the  huge 
Spanish  spurs.  Bridle  and  saddle  were  lavishly  decor 
ated  ;  chains  dangled  from  the  one,  brass  tacks  glistened 

256 


DOWN  THROUGH  CALIFORNIA 

in  the  other.  But  he  was  no  Spaniard  or  Mexican;  he 
was  an  Indian. 

"  Buenas  noches,  senors,"  he  greeted,  cordially,  in 
excellent  Spanish.  "  Good  evening.  I  saw  you  enter 
the  pass,  and  I  have  come  down  to  bid  you  have  no 
fear." 

"  To  whom  do  we  speak?  "  asked  the  lieutenant. 

"  To  a  Christian  Indian,  senor.  I  am  from  the  mis 
sion  San  Fernando,  near  to  the  Pueblo  de  Nuestra 
Senora  la  Reina  de  los  Angeles  (the  Town  of  Our 
Lady  the  Queen  of  the  Angels),"  he  explained.  "I 
have  been,  by  permission  of  the  fathers,  to  visit  my 
relatives  in  the  Sierras,  beyond  here.  Looking  back, 
I  saw  you." 

"  We  are  much  obliged,  sefior,"  answered  the  lieu 
tenant,  gravely.  "  Alight  and  sit.  You  are  acquainted 
with  the  country  ?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

"  We  are  on  our  way  east,  to  the  American  States. 
What  lies  across  this  range?  " 

"  An  arid,  burning  desert,  senor ;  impossible  for 
man  or  beast." 

"  I  remember  it,"  quoth  Kit  Carson,  nodding.  "  I 
war  across  it  with  Ewing  Young." 

"  Lower  down,  senor,"  corrected  the  Indian, 
politely.  "  By  the  Spanish  Trail." 

"  That  war  'fore  the  Spanish  Trail  had  been  broken 
through ;  but  it  mout  have  been  lower  down,  o'  course." 

17  257 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  Then  we  cannot  cross  directly  eastward  ?  "  queried 
the  lieutenant. 

"  No,  senor.  Even  the  Indians  cannot.  It  is  the 
Mohave  Desert.  But  if  you  desire  to  travel  east,  after 
crossing  this  pass  you  should  follow  south  along  the 
foot  of  the  mountains,  where  is  water  and  grass,  to 
the  Spanish  Trail  to  Santa  Fe.  By  this  route  have  just 
returned  six  Indians  of  a  great  river  of  the  desert,  who 
have  been  here  trading  with  my  people.  For  two  days 
on  my  way  to  San  Fernando  I  am  travelling  the  same 
road,  myself,  and  I  will  gladly  be  your  guide/' 

They  thanked  him,  and  accepted  his  offer. 


XXI 

THE  VENGEANCE  OF  KIT  CARSON 

THE  Christian  Indian  of  the  San  Fernando  mission 
rejoined  the  march,  the  next  morning";  amidst  goose 
berries,  humming-birds,  and  yellow  flowers,  looked 
down  upon  by  snow-caps,  the  pass  was  threaded ;  and  a 
very  different  crossing  of  the  Sierra  Range  was  this, 
from  that  experienced  but  a  few  weeks  back ! 

Unexpectedly  to  all  the  company,  as  the  trail  wound 
down  among  the  foot-hills  on  the  eastern  side  of  the 
range  the  desert  unfolded  to  view.  There  it  lay,  wait 
ing,  like  a  flat,  prone  dragon.  There  it  lay,  as  the  guide 
had  asserted :  arid,  burning,  white-hot,  with  occasional 
blackish  ridges  breaking  its  surface  like  scales,  and 
with  its  fevered  breath,  like  a  mist,  quivering  above. 

;<  The  great  llanos — plains/'  announced  the  guide, 
dramatically  waving  his  hand.  "  They  have  no  water, 
they  have  no  grass ;  every  animal  that  goes  upon  them 
dies." 

"  The  Mohave  Desert,  I  reckon  it  air/'  said  Kit 
Carson,  meditatively  surveying.  "  I  crossed  it  twice, 
on  that  Calif orny  trip,  but  the  trail  we  made  war  lower 
down." 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 


"  By  the  Mohave  River,  senor,  perhaps,"  suggested 
the  guide. 

"  Guess  so." 

"  That  is  lower  to  the  south.  The  Spanish  Trail 
which  your  company  will  take  follows  along  it." 

On  April  17,  three  weeks  from  New  Helvetia, 
among  the  ridges  by  which  the  mountains  tapered  to 
the  desert  was  encountered  a  little  trail  cutting  east 
and  west  across  the  southward  march.  Scarcely  could 
it  be  traced,  so  faint  and  rarely  trodden  was  it ;  but  the 
guide  at  once  turned  east,  upon  it. 

"  It  is  the  trail  between  the  Spanish  Trail,  east,  and 
the  mission  San  Buenaventura,  next  to  Santa  Barbara, 
on  the  coast,"  he  said. 

He  rode  a  few  miles,  and  halted. 

"  Adios,"  he  spoke.  And  indicating  the  thread 
like  trail :  "  This  is  the  road.  It  does  not  lose  itself ; 
it  continues  on.  Follow  it,  and  you  will  reach  the 
Spanish  Trail  ahead  of  the  great  spring  caravan  out 
of  the  Pueblo  de  los  Angeles  for  Santa  Fe  of  New 
Mexico;  so  you  will  find  the  grass  uneaten.  By  that 
black  hill  yonder  is  water.  Now  I  must  turn  off  for 
San  Fernando." 

The  lieutenant  and  Kit  and  Mr.  Preuss  and  Mr. 
Talbot  and  others  in  the  van  shook  hands  with  him, 
thanking  him  again;  and  the  lieutenant  further  re 
warded  him  with  presents  of  knives  and  bright  cloth. 
Amidst  mutual  "  Adios  (a  Dios — God  with  you),"  he 
left,  galloping  away  for  the  mission  San  Fernando 


THE  VENGEANCE  OF  KIT  CARSON 

Rey  de  Espana  (Saint  Ferdinand  King  of  Spain), 
north  of  the  Pueblo  de  los  Angeles  which  is  to-day  the 
City  Los  Angeles. 

Through  draws  blazing  with  flowers  purple,  lemon 
and  orange,  and  richly  perfumed,  the  Fremont  and 
Carson  company  followed  the  little  trail  eastward  until 
at  the  dark  ridge  out  upon  a  sandy  plain  they  camped 
with  water  but  no  grass. 

For  two  days  and  a  half  the  little  trail  led  eastward. 
Then,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  third  day,  April  20,  the 
advance  scouts  shouted  and  waved  and  waited.  When 
Oliver,  with  the  van,  arrived  at  the  spot,  he  also  joined 
in  the  shout,  although  not  wholly  knowing  why — save 
that  here  the  little  trail  united  with  a  broad,  well- 
defined  trail,  north  and  south. 

"  The  Spanish  Trail  from  Californy  to  Santy  Fee, 
captain,"  announced  Kit  Carson. 

"  It  must  be,"  agreed  the  lieutenant.  "  And  it  takes 
us  north,  boys !  Now  we  can  cross  the  mountains  by 
way  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake  and  the  Utah  Lake,  to 
strike  the  head  of  the  Arkansas.  We're  not  to  be 
cheated  out  of  the  fine  country." 

"  Hooray !  "  they  cheered. 

"  It's  good-by  to  Californy,"  remarked  Kit,  to  the 
lieutenant,  as  now  the  cavalcade  turned  into  this  broad 
trail. 

"  We'll  come  again,  Kit,"  asserted  Lieutenant 
Fremont. 

And  they  did;  to  win  the  fair  land  for  the  United 

261 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

States,  and  the  lieutenant  to  make  here  his  home,  as  he 
had  hoped. 

So  this  was  the  famous  Old  Spanish  Trail,  was  it ; 
this  bare  road  of  rocky  sand  scarred  by  many  hoofs, 
stretching  on  indefinitely  athwart  the  rolling,  sparsely 
verdured  plains? 

"  You  might  think  it's  called  the  Spanish  Trail 
'cause  the  names  on  it  air  all  Spanish,"  narrated  Kit 
Carson,  as  with  Oliver  he  ambled  in  the  dust.  "  But 
like  as  not  it's  called  so  'cause  the  old  Spanish  Fathers 
started  it,  at  t'other  end,  in  their  missionary  trips  out 
o'  Santy  Fee.  They  never  cut  it  through,  though. 
An  American  did  that.  I  knew  his  family  in  Missouri. 
He  war  a  trader,  'twixt  Missouri  an'  New  Mexico.  His 
name  war  William  Wolf  skill;  an'  in  fall  o'  Eighteen- 
thirty  he  tuk  a  trading  caravan  out  o'  Santy  Fee  for  Los 
Angeles,  an'  he  made  this  trail  to  try  north  o'  the  Heely 
(Gila)  River  trail.  He  thought  he'd  find  better  grass. 
It's  regular  caravan  trail,  for  hosses  an'  mules  to  Santy 
Fee,  an'  calico  an'  blankets  an'  stuff  back  ag'in." 

"  Seems  to  me  that  some  of  these  tracks  in  the  trail 
are  fresh,"  commented  the  lieutenant,  riding  up. 

"  So  I  war  thinking,"  replied  Kit.  "  Fresh  hoof- 
tracks,  an'  some  fresh  Injun  tracks.  Thar  must  be  a 
caravan  party  on  ahead  o'  the  main  travel;  an'  those 
Injun  tracks  likely  air  the  six  fellows  spoken  of  by 
that  mansito.  But  in  sech  a  wind,  blowing  the  sand, 
sign  air  hard  to  read." 

An  unpleasant  gale  was  raging — a  furious,  constant 


THE  VENGEANCE  OF  KIT  CARSON 

blast  as  the  cooler  air  of  the  mountains  on  the  west 
rushed  down  to  fill  the  vacuum  caused  by  the  rising  hot 
air  of  the  desert  on  the  east.  The  Spanish  Trail  con 
tinued,  well  marked,  but  with  its  sharp  rocks  speedily 
setting  the  animals  to  limping.  It  was  a  trail  rougher 
than  any  part  of  the  Oregon  Trail.  Oliver  heard  the 
lieutenant  regretting  that  the  cavvy  had  not  been  shod. 

The  trail  had  been  skirting  a  river,  curious  but 
refreshing  as  it  flowed  briskly  and  sparkling  between 
low  banks  of  the  whitish  sand.  A  few  cottonwoods 
and  willows  grew  along  it.  Oliver  observed  that 
although  they  were  descending  it,  it  was  getting  smaller 
instead  of  larger — an  odd  circumstance. 

"  It's  the  Mohave,  I  reckon,"  stated  Kit.  "  At  least, 
when  I  came  out  with  Ewing  Young  we  followed  up  a 
river  'bout  like  this,  hyar,  on  our  way  from  the  Colo 
rado  to  the  Californy  missions.  You  watch  it,  an' 
you'll  see  something." 

The  next  morning  the  lieutenant,  during  the  ride, 
spoke  suddenly: 

"  There  goes  our  river !  " 

All  near  him  looked.    Kit  Carson  chuckled  quietly. 

"  Yes;  it's  flopped  for  a  spell.  Now  it'll  flow  bot 
tom-side-up  till  it's  ready  to  turn  over  ag'in :  the  bed's 
on  top  an*  the  water's  under.  It's  the  Mohave,  sure — 
tho'  I've  seen  other  rivers  like  it." 

"  Remarkable ! "  ejaculated  Mr.  Preuss,  much  in 
terested.  "  It  burrows  like  a  gopher  of  the  plains." 

"  Brave  stream !   I  teenk  she  gets  weak  by  the  sun 

263 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

an'  goes  under  to  get  strong,  encore,"  proffered  Alex 
ander  Godey,  gayly. 

"  What  it  does  is  to  follow  the  bed-rock,"  explained 
the  lieutenant.  "  The  water  sinks  to  the  rock.  Where 
the  rock  stratum  lies  deep,  the  water  disappears  in 
the  sand;  where  the  rock  stratum  approaches  the  sur 
face,  the  water  is  brought  above  the  sand  again." 

For  about  sixteen  miles  the  course  of  the  stream 
was  dust-dry ;  then,  suddenly,  out  had  popped  the  water, 
in  a  series  of  welcome  pools.  By  the  tokens  of  bones 
and  rags  this  evidently  was  a  customary  camping- 
ground,  between  marches.  When  Oliver,  who  had 
been  busy  helping  herd  the  cavvy,  returned  to  the  fires, 
he  beheld  there  six  strange  Indians — the  six  who  had 
been  spoken  of  by  the  mansito  guide,  and  who  had 
been  in  advance  of  the  company. 

Five  were  Mohaves,  and  one  was  a  California  In 
dian  who  lived  with  them.  All  were  naked;  the  Mo- 
haves,  of  coppery  bronze  skin,  straight  legs,  tall  erect 
stature,  were  the  handsomest  Indians  whom  Oliver  ever 
had  seen.  The  party  were  equipped  with  unusually 
long  bows,  and  each  man  carried  a  gourd,  slung  in  a 
cord  mesh,  for  water.  The  Californian  spoke  some 
Spanish,  learned  at  the  missions.  He  said  that  they 
came  from  a  large  village  of  the  Mohaves  at  the  cross 
ing  of  the  River  Colorado,  below  the  large  canyons, 
in  the  desert  three  days'  travel  eastward. 

"  I  remember  the  village,"  confirmed  Kit.  "  Cap 
tain  Young  crossed  thar,  when  we  came  out  in  Twenty- 


THE  VENGEANCE  OF  KIT  CARSON 

nine.  Injuns  war  peaceable :  we  bought  a  fat  mare  to 
eat,  an'  some  squash,  for  we  war  nigh  starved.  But 
same  Injuns  had  attacked  another  party,  at  the  crossing, 
year  before,  so  we  war  watching  sharp." 

From  the  camp  where  the  Indians  joined,  the  Fre 
mont  and  Carson  company  followed  a  little  further 
down  the  erratic  Mohave  River,  eastward,  although 
the  main  trail  veered  more  northward,  for  the  ridges. 
The  six  Indians  were  afoot.  They  claimed  that  when 
they  brought  back  horses  the  northern  desert  Indians 
stole  them.  They  also  claimed  to  be  poor  and  hungry ; 
and  when,  upon  the  next  day's  march,  three  cattle, 
miserably  worn,  must  be  killed,  after  the  camp  had 
satisfied  itself  the  six  fell  to  until  they  had  left  only 
the  bones. 

The  Indians'  banquet  began  in  the  afternoon  and 
continued  all  the  night.  While  Oliver  and  Jacob  the 
colored  youth  (to  whom  the  Mohaves  were  as  interest 
ing  as  he  was  curious  to  them)  were  watching  them 
as  by  daylight  they  hacked  and  tore  at  the  carcasses, 
from  the  camp  welled  a  significant  murmur. 

"  Somebody  coming — riding  from  the  no'th,"  an 
nounced  Jacob.  "  Looks  laike  they're  in  a  monstrous 
hurry.  What  foh,  I  wonder.  Huh !  Two  men." 

"Man  and  boy;  Mexicans,"  proclaimed  Oliver, 
keener  of  sight. 

Yes,  by  token  of.  their  scrapes,  or  blanket-scarfs 
enveloping  their  shoulders,  and  their  bell-brimmed,  high 
conical  hats,  Mexicans  they  were;  and  man  and  boy 

265 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 


• 


they  were ;  riding  desperately,  upon  foaming1,  sweating 
horses,  across  the  trackless  sand  and  rocks,  for  the 
camp.  As  soon  as  they  arrived  they  were  surrounded 
by  an  excited  audience,  and  reeling  in  their  saddles 
were  telling  their  story.  The  man,  with  many  rapid 
gestures,  and  staccato  exclamations  from  the  boy  as 
well  as  from  himself,  was  the  chief  speaker. 

"  We  are  Mexicans,  senors,"  he  panted.  "  Two 
out  of  a  party  of  six  in  advance  of  the  main  caravan 
from  the  Pueblo  de  los  Angeles  for  Santa  Fe.  Thirty 
horses  we  had,  and  we  thought  by  setting  out  ahead 
we  should  get  the  better  grass.  Ay  de  mi !  And  what 
happened!  The  other  four  were  my  dear  wife,  the 
mother  and  father  of  this  boy,  and  a  friend  Santiago 
Giacome,  who  was  our  guide.  We  found  good  grass, 
and  at  the  camping-place  of  the  Archilette,  about  eighty 
miles  beyond  here,  on  the  main  trail,  senors,  we  at  last 
made  halt  to  wait  for  the  caravan  to  overtake  us.  We 
had  gone  into  the  desert  far  enough,  being  few  in 
numbers.  But  after  we  had  been  at  the  Archilette,  un 
molested,  for  more  than  a  day,  senors,  several  Indians 
ventured  to  visit  us,  from  where  they  had  been  watch 
ing  us.  They  left  us,  with  good  words,  but  in  a  few 
days  afterward  came  back  with  an  immense  crowd, 
an  army  of  them,  senors ;  and  before  we  could  prepare 
defence  they  charged,  shooting  and  yelling.  We  were 
only  six,  and  two  of  us  women,  with  thirty  horses. 
Pablo  (and  he  indicated  the  boy)  and  I  were  on  horse- 
guard  ;  part  of  the  barbarians  surrounded  the  herd,  but 

266 


THE  VENGEANCE  OF  KIT  CARSON 

Giacome  shouted  to  us  to  take  it  and  flee — we  must 
save  the  horses  while  he  and  this  boy's  father  fought 
to  protect  the  women.  So  we  did,  the  boy  and  I :  we 
drove  the  animals  right  through  the  savages,  and  at  full 
speed,  with  halts  only  to  change  saddles  from  one 
mount  to  another,  we  traversed  back  down  the  trail, 
until  this  morning  we  reached  the  camping  spot  of 
Agua  de  Tomaso,  about  twenty  miles  from  here.  Now 
having  left  the  herd  there,  lest  the  savages  should 
overtake  us  as  well  as  it,  we  were  hastening  on  to 
meet  the  caravan  and  inform  it,  when  we  sighted  your 
camp,  sefiors.  Ay  de  mi !  Alas  and  alas !  Our  four 
companions,  two  of  them  women,  are  murdered — and 
by  this  time  the  horses  also  are  gone !  " 

"  Ay  de  mi !  Mi  madre  y  mi  padre !  "  wailed  the 
boy.  "  Alas !  My  mother  and  my  father !  " 

During  the  recital  the  company  had  listened  in 
tensely  ;  and  now  at  the  close  there  was  a  sudden  out 
burst  of  ejaculations.  Some  of  the  men — Baptiste 
Tabeau,  Alexander  Godey,  Jacob,  Sergeant  Zindel,  and 
others — were  determined  to  start  at  once,  to  the  scene 
of  the  attack.  The  lieutenant  restrained  them. 

"  Wait,"  he  cautioned.  "  I  cannot  divide  the  force, 
boys.  We  have  the  camp  to  look  after,  to-night.  The 
savages  may  be  coming  down  the  trail.  To-morrow  we 
will  know  better  w7hat  to  do." 

"  It'd  be  dark  'fore  we  got  to  the  place  whar  the 
hosses  war  left,"  reminded  Kit,  agreeing  with  the  lieu 
tenant.  "  Injuns'll  travel  fast,  for  a  ways,  after  they 

267 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

take  the  herd,  till  they  think  they  airn't  being  pursued ; 
then  they'll  stop  for  a  feast.  We'll  catch  'em  jest  as 
soon  if  we  start  to-morrow,  when  they've  slackened 
up." 

Thomas  Fitzpatrick  concurred. 

The  Mexican  man's  name  was  Andres  Fuentes ;  the 
boy's  name  was  Pablo  Hernandez.  He  .was  about 
eleven  years  old,  and  with  his  large  black  eyes,  white 
teeth,  smooth  brown  skin  and  regular  oval  features 
was  a  handsome  little  fellow.  The  twain  were  told  to 
dismount,  and  stay.  The  lieutenant  took  them  into 
his  own  mess,  and  promised  them  that  on  the  morrow 
he  would  do  what  he  could  to  avenge  their  wrongs. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  camp  was  moving,  setting 
course  north  to  enter  the  main  trail,  only  a  few  miles 
distant.  Here  were  many  blackish,  rocky,  bare  ridges, 
with  gullies  of  gravel  and  sand  between.  The  gullies 
formed  in  the  spring  the  beds  of  streams ;  and  in  places 
wolves  had  been  smart  enough  to  dig  little  wells,  until 
two  feet  down  they  reached  the  water  which  they  had 
smelled ! 

After  twenty  miles,  Andres  Fuentes  pointed  ahead. 

"  The  Agua  de  Tomaso — the  Thomas  Spring, 
senors.  But  I  see  no  horses." 

Pablo  began  to  cry,  as  his  memories  revived. 

The  advance  scouts,  whom  Andres  and  Pablo 
were  guiding,  spread  and  rode  more  cautiously,  recon 
noitring;  but  the  Spring  of  Thomas  was  deserted; 
neither  horse-herd  nor  Indians  were  there. 


THE  VENGEANCE  OF  KIT  CARSON 

The  signs  were  easy  to  read :  the  Indians  had  come 
in,  afoot,  from  several  directions,  and  had  gone  out 
driving  the  herd. 

"  I  think  we'd  better  follow  those  rascals,  lieu 
tenant,  an'  teach  'em  a  lesson,  or  the  trail  won't  be 
safe  for  travel,  all  the  year,"  said  Kit  Carson.  "  If 
the  Injuns  get  away  unpunished,  with  these  hyar 
hosses,  they'll  take  more.  They'll  consider  they're 
boss." 

"  Well,"  answered  the  lieutenant,  "  go  ahead,  Kit. 
How  many  men  do  you  want?  " 

"  Godey  an'  I'll  do.  This  Mexican'll  come,  too, 
if  we'll  lend  him  a  fresh  hoss." 

"  Three  of  you,  to  tackle  fifty?  "  queried  the  lieu 
tenant.  "  Isn't  that  a  pretty  big  job?  " 

"  Wall,  I  reckon  we're  enough  to  stampede  the 
animals,  an'  raise  a  little  ha'r  if  necessary,"  asserted 
Kit,  quietly.  "  Godey's  wuth  a  dozen  ordinary  men ; 
an'  the  Mexican's  wife  air  captured,  you  remember." 

"  All  right,  Kit,"  responded  the  lieutenant.  "  But 
we're  not  asking  you,  or  anybody,  to  go.  That's  a 
risky  proposition,  pursuing  Indians  into  the  desert, 
and  fighting  somebody  else's  battle.  These  are  Mexi 
cans — and  their  own  caravan  will  be  along,  soon." 

"  Mexicans  or  not,  they're  human  beings,  lieuten 
ant,"  declared  Kit,  refilling  his  powder-flask.  "  Pore 
critters!  Think  o'  having  yore  own  wife  out  thar,  at 
the  mercy  o'  the  savages.  An'  thar'll  be  other  parties 

269 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 


travelling  the  trail,  with  women  an'  property.  No, 
sir;  those  Injuns  ought  to  be  taught  a  lesson/' 

Well  mounted  and  armed,  rode  away  Kit  and 
Godey  and  Fuentes  the  Mexican.  Now  was  it  mid- 
afternoon;  the  company  remained  in  camp  at  the 
Agua  de  Tomaso,  to  await  their  return. 

There  was  little  talk  save  upon  the  one  topic:  the 
venture  of  the  two  knights  errant  and  their  eager 
companion. 

In  the  dusk  of  evening  a  single  figure  was  seen, 
returning  from  the  direction  wherein  three  had  rid 
den.  He  came  on  slowly.  The  camp  was  alarmed. 
It  was  Fuentes,  who  explained  that  his  horse  had  failed, 
but  that  Kit  Carson  and  Godey  were  sticking  to  the  trail. 

The  night  passed ;  the  morning  passed,  and  the  sun 
crossed  the  zenith  to  afternoon.  The  lieutenant  fid 
geted,  ill  at  ease,  for  Kit  and  Godey  did  not  reappear. 

"  They'll  come,  captain,  but  they'll  find  those  In 
juns  first,"  assured  Thomas  Fitzpatrick.  "  I  know 
Kit  and  I  know  Godey.  They'll  run  that  trail  to  the 
end.  Kit  never  quits  when  once  he  has  started." 

Scarcely  had  he  spoken,  when  shrill  and  clear 
pierced  the  hot  air  a  faint,  distant  halloo — a  long, 
high,  quavering  whoop,  drifting  in  from  the  black 
ridge  to  the  north. 

"A  scalp  halloo,  or  I'm  an  Injun  myself!"  ex 
claimed  Fitzpatrick.  "  There's  Kit  and  Godey,  with 
good  news,  I'll  wager." 

Again  rose  the  scalp  halloo.     All  eyes  were  fast- 

270 


THE  VENGEANCE  OF  KIT  CARSON 

ened  upon  the  ridge  which  closed  the  vista  in  that  direc 
tion.  Presently  out  from  around  a  shoulder  concealing 
a  little  pass  emerged  a  jostling  bunch  of  horses;  two 
riders  were  driving ;  at  rapid  trot  and  lope  they  crossed 
the  little  strip  of  plain,  for  the  camp. 

"  Kit  and  Godey !  I  told  you !  "  cried  Thomas 
Fitzpatrick.  "  Look  at  the  bosses?  " 

"  The  very  horses !  Those  are  they — I  recognize 
them;  don't  you,  Pablo?  "  claimed  Fuentes,  jubilantly; 
and  he  added,  now  mournful :  "  But  I  see  only  the  two 
persons — the  same  who  went.  Ay  de  mi !  " 

"  Ay  de  mi !  Mi  madre  y  mi  padre !  "  wailed  Pablo. 

"  Godey — he  has  scalps !  See,  on  his  gun !  " 
directed  Baptiste  Tabeau,  capering.  "  Yes !  Two ! 
Tied  to  the  end  of  his  gun !  " 

"  They  overtook  the  Indians  as  well  as  the  horses," 
remarked  the  lieutenant. 

With  whoop  from  Kit  Carson  and  wide  smile 
from  Godey,  triumphant  the  twain  rode  in.  As  said 
by  Baptiste,  from  the  end  of  Godey's  long-barrelled 
rifle  dangled  two  fresh  scalps,  of  black,  Indian  hair. 

How  the  camp  cheered.  As  soon  as  the  horses  had 
been  thrown  in  with  herd,  around  Kit  and  Godey 
gathered  the  camp,  breathless  to  hear  the  story. 

"  Oh,  Godey  can  tell  it,"  responded  to  the  in 
quiries  Kit.  "  Thar's  nothing  to  tell,  anyhow.  We 
followed  the  trail  an'  found  the  Injuns  an'  took  the 
bosses  an'  a  couple  o'  scalps,  an'  hyar  we  air." 

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WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  And  my  people,  sefior — my  wife,  and  the  mother 
and  father  of  IPablo,  and  Santiago?  Nothing  of 
them?" 

"  Nothing  of  them,  amigo,"  said  Kit  Carson, 
gently;  and  turned  away. 

Godey,  by  no  means  loath,  was  recounting,  in  his 
dramatic  French  fashion,  while  to  his  words  his  audi 
tors,  particularly  the  other  French,  wagged  their  heads. 

"  At  night  we  entered  the  mountains,  but  as  you 
know  there  is  a  moon  enough,  and  we  followed  the 
trail  clear  till  midnight.  We  rode  hard,  my  friends, 
for  we  are  two  mountain-men,  and  not  afraid  of  these 
dogs  of  Pah-Utes,  who  eat  horses  and  lizards.  Then 
in  a  black  gulch  we  must  stop.  Here  the  moon,  being 
low,  did  not  shine,  and  the  trail  was  faint  among  the 
rocks.  We  must  dismount,  and  upon  hands  and  knees 
feel  for  it.  By  the  sign  we  knew  that  the  savages  were 
only  a  few  hours  in  advance  of  us.  They  had  not 
eaten,  and  soon  they  would  wish  to  taste  horse.  That 
is  the  use  to  which  these  desert  Indians  put  the  horse 
and  the  mule:  they  eat  him,  they  do  not  ride  him. 
So  lest  we  lose  the  trail  altogether  we  tied  our  horses, 
and  without  fire,  that  we  should  not  be  spied  upon,  in 
our  saddle-blankets  we  slept  upon  the  cold  rocks  until 
daylight.  Now  might  we  make  a  very  small  fire, 
of  the  dried  sage,  which  gave  off  no  smoke,  by  which 
we  warmed  our  hands  and  cooked  breakfast.  Through 
the  gulch  we  rode,  and  after  about  two  miles  we 
sighted  the  rascally  savages.  There  were  four  lodges 

272 


THE  VENGEANCE  OF  KIT  CARSON 

of  them,  down  in  a  bottom  between  bare  hills.  They 
thought  that  no  one  had  pursued  them,  and  that  they 
were  secure;  for  their  horses  were  grazing  without 
guard,  and  they  themselves,  about  thirty  in  number, 
were  feasting  on  horse,  boiled  and  roasted.  We  could 
see  the  kettles  and  the  steaks.  Ma  foi,  my  friends, 
but  they  were  making  very  merry.  Kit  and  I,  we  tied 
our  horses  below  a  ridge,  and  crept  down  for  the  horse- 
herd.  By  throwing  stones  and  twigs  at  them  we  would 
edge  them  away,  slowly,  until  we  might  stampede 
them.  We  were  doing  well,  when,  name  of  a  dog! 
A  fool  of  a  young  horse  saw  us  on  all  fours,  and  up 
went  his  heels  and  how  he  snorted !  That  was  enough. 
The  Indians  sprang  to  their  arms.  '  Come ! '  said  Kit. 
*  At  them  before  they  have  any  time ! '  So  down  we 
charged,  we  two,  yelling,  and  as  bold  as  if  we  were 
two  hundred.  '  Crack ! '  spoke  our  rifles ;  but  hein — 
one  Indian  fell ;  only  one.  '  Scalp  for  me ! '  I  claimed. 
'  I  count  coup  on  that  fellow/  claimed  Kit.  Pshaw ! 
We  had  both  shot  at  the  same !  No  matter.  I  reloaded 
first,  and  at  the  crack  I  wiped  out  another.  By  this 
time  arrows  were  whizzing  around  us,  from  those 
long,  stout  bows ;  one  passed  through  my  shirt-collar. 
Here — see?  But  the  savages  had  enough;  away  they 
scampered,  climbing  the  hills,  and  hiding  in  the  rocks. 
They  left  a  boy,  and  the  two  dead  men.  These  two 
we  scalped — when,  horrible,  the  one  who  was  shot 
twice,  through  and  through,  jumped  up,  howling". 
Wagh!  I  hope  never  to  see  another  such  a  sight! 

18  273 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

When  he  howled,  and  before  we  could  do  what  we 
must  do,  an  old  squaw,  climbing  the  hill,  stopped  and 
looked  back  and  shook  her  fist  at  us  and  cursed  us. 
Maybe  she  was  the  dead  man's  mother;  who  knows? 
Now  we  were  in  possession  of  the  camp,  which  was 
cleverly  hidden  in  a  little  bottom  or  draw,  with  a  good 
spring.  Four  or  five  of  the  horses  had  been  killed, 
for  a  big  feast ;  they  were  cut  up,  all  ready  to  fill  the 
pots  again.  Many  more  Indians  were  expected;  the 
pots,  and  baskets  of  fifty  or  sixty  moccasins  showed 
this.  As  for  the  boy,  when  he  found  that  he  was  not 
to  die  immediately  at  our  hands,  he  sat  down  and 
gnawed  at  a  horse-head.  Ma  foi !  What  lack  of  feel 
ing!  Well,  my  friends,  we  destroyed  the  camp,  and 
left  there  the  boy,  eating  his  horse-head,  and  collecting 
the  horses  we  took  the  back  trail." 

"  Bravo !     Good !  "  congratulated  the  company. 

"  You  saw  nothing  of  the  Mexican  prisoners  ?  " 
queried  the  lieutenant. 

Godey  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  captain.  There  was  no  sign.  We  think  that 
they  must  be  with  the  other  party  of  the  savages 

or  else "  and  Godey  shrugged  his  shoulders, 

significantly. 

The  lieutenant  spoke  to  Fuentes,  informing  him. 
And  Fuentes,  and  Pablo  the  lad,  having  shaken  the 
hands  of  Kit  and  of  Godey,  thanking  them  for  the 
scout,  enveloped  themselves  in  their  scrapes,  apart. 
Sorrow  sat  heavy  upon  them.  What  were  the  horses, 

274 


THE  VENGEANCE  OF  KIT  CARSON 

as  compared  with  wife,  and  father  and  mother,  and 
friend  ? 

Oliver  overheard  the  lieutenant  talking  with  Theo 
dore  Talbot,  the  Washington  tenderfoot  who  had  won 
veteran's  service-stripes. 

"  There  you  see  an  example  of  mountain-man 
work,  Talbot,"  was  saying  the  lieutenant.  "  That's 
the  spirit  beyond  the  western  frontier.  Here  we  have 
two  men  trailing  Indians — a  wily  foe — fifty  miles 
through  an  unknown  country;  attacking  their  camp, 
which  showed  four  lodges,  each  lodge  presumed  to 
mean  five  to  eight  or  more  persons;  driving  the  In 
dians  out,  and  returning,  with  the  horses,  fifty  miles 
again;  all  in  thirty  hours.  And  why?  Not  only  for 
general  good,  but  to  avenge  the  wrongs  suffered  by 
Mexicans  who  also  were  strangers.  I  tell  you,  Tal 
bot,  you'll  never  meet  with  a  bolder,  finer  deed  of 
arms.  And  who  performed  it?  Kit  Carson,  of  Ken 
tucky  parentage  and  Missouri  breeding,  and  Alexander 
Godey,  St.  Louis  Frenchman:  Americans,  both." 


XXII 
POOR  TABEAU  PAYS  THE  PRICE 


SCALP  CAMP  was  christened  this  camp,  of  April 
25  and  26,  at  the  Agua  de  Tomaso  or  Thomas  Spring, 
latitude  35°  13'  08",  longitude  116°  23'  28",  on  the 
Old  Spanish  Trail  in  the  northern  part  of  the  San 
Bernardino  Desert,  southeastern  California.  Ahead 
upon  the  trail  was  the  camping-spot  of  the  Archilette, 
where  had  been  made  the  attack  upon  the  caravan 
camp.  Thither  by  forced  march  proceeded  the 
company. 

The  Mexican  Fuentes  informed  that  the  first 
stretch  awaiting  was  a  dry  journey  of  forty  or  fifty 
miles.  To  avoid  the  heat  of  day  the  company  pushed 
on  at  once,  as  the  sun  was  setting.  While  northeast 
wardly  they  travelled,  by  the  warm  moonlight  were 
revealed  to  them  many  white  skeletons  of  horses  and 
mules,  strewn  along  the  way;  and  this  was  the  sign 
of  a  dry  Jornada.  Forty-three  miles  were  put  behind 
ere  halt  was  made,  before  dawn,  at  a  salty,  swampy 
place,  illy  fitted  to  refresh.  The  moon  had  sunk;  but 
here  also  the  light  of  dawn  disclosed  skeletons  of  ani 
mals  which  had  perished  from  weakness. 

On  the  morning  of  April  29  they  were  traversing 

276 


POOR  TABEAU  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

a  singularly  silent,  blasted  country  of  blackish  ridges 
and  twisted,  squat,  repulsive  cactus. 

"  The  Archilette  is  just  beyond,  senor  capitan," 
directed  Fuentes. 

With  eyes  and  ears  alert  the  advance  quickened 
their  pace.  From  a  low  ridge  of  bare  rocks  Fuentes 
pointed  to  a  spot  of  brush  and  greenness  in  a  sandy 
basin  before. 

"  That  is  it,"  he  said. 

"  Come,  boys !  "  urged  the  lieutenant.  "  Charge 
it."  And  down  at  a  gallop,  rifles  and  carbines  ready, 
they  galloped — the  lieutenant  on  his  gray  Sacramento 
keeping  the  front,  Kit  racing  him  hard,  Godey  and 
Tabeau  and  Talbot  and  Jacob,  eager  Oliver  and 
anxious  Fuentes  and  little  Pablo,  and  all,  thudding  to 
overtake. 

But  the  spring  of  the  Archilette  lay  unresponsive, 
seemingly  without  life.  Only,  before  a  willow  lean-to 
which  had  been  a  shelter  was  the  mutilated  body  of 
Pablo's  father,  the  Hernandez,  with  both  legs  and  one 
arm  missing.  He  had  stood  stanch  in  defence  of  his 
wife.  Near  by,  in  another  willow  lean-to,  was  the  body 
of  Santiago  Giacome,  a  powerful  frame,  also  pierced 
with  arrows.  The  savages  long  had  departed,  and 
they  must  have  borne  with  them  the  mother  of  Pablo 
and  the  wife  of  Fuentes. 

While  the  party  were  sorrowfully  regarding,  out 
from  the  bushes  crept  a  small  Mexican  lap-dog — sud 
denly,  with  glad  yelps  to  leap  upon  Pablo's  legs  and 

277 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

lick  his  hand.  The  Hernandez  dog  he  was;  and  not 
having  been  noted  by  the  Indians  he  had  remained 
in  lonely  vigil  here,  at  this  dreadful  place,  watching 
and  waiting.  How  glad  he  was  to  see  Pablo  his 
young  master !  Pablo  picked  him  up,  and  carrying  him 
walked  along  wailing,  distracted: 

"  Mi  padre !  Mi  madre !  Ay,  mi  padre  y  mi 
madre!  (My  father!  My  mother!  Oh,  my  father 
and  my  mother!)" 

Fuentes  wrapped  his  head  in  his  serape,  thus  to 
mourn. 

None  in  the  company  wished  to  stay  here,  but  there 
was  no  other  camping-spot,  and  the  animals  must  have 
water.  The  lieutenant  wrote  upon  a  piece  of  paper 
a  brief  story  of  the  tragedy,  and  by  a  cleft  stick  planted 
it  so  that  the  approaching  caravan  might  know  what 
had  befallen  their  comrades.  The  Archilette  was  re 
named  Hernandez  Spring — Agua  de  Hernandez.  It 
is  in  extreme  Southwestern  Nevada. 

The  march  was  waxing  cruelly  severe  upon  the 
animals.  By  water  and  grass  were  they  grudgingly 
nourished,  but  by  the  rocks  of  the  innumerable  ridges 
were  their  hoofs  cut  to  the  quick.  Mule  and  horse 
dropped  daily.  When  they  died  by  pain  and  exhaus 
tion,  or  must  be  shot,  Fuentes  the  Mexican  quickly 
cut  off  mane  and  tail  for  hair  bridles,  saddle-girths,  etc. 

Amidst  increasing  hills,  abloom  with  cacti  and 
acacia,  and  over  a  low  snowy  mountain  into  another 
skeleton-strewn  dry  Jornada,  of  almost  sixty  miles, 

278 


POOR  TABEAU  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

rode  the  Fremont  and  Carson  men.  By  chewing  the 
acid  sour  dock,  and  by  sucking  at  the  pulpy  bisnaga 
cactus  known  to  Fuentes  the  Mexican,  they  moistened 
their  thirst;  until  at  midnight  the  California  mules, 
breaking  into  a  run,  gave  warning  of  water  scented 
more  than  a  mile  before.  This  was  the  Rio  de  los 
Angeles,  or  River  of  the  Angels,  tributary  to  the  Vir 
gin  River  which  itself  flows  south  into  the  canyoned 
Colorado. 

Upon  the  bluffy  bank  of  the  Rio  de  los  Angeles,  to 
day  styled  only  the  Muddy  River,  must  camp  be 
pitched.  At  daybreak  Indians  swarmed  down.  With 
the  first  sight  of  them,  frightened  Pablo  and  his  little 
dog  ran  to  hide  in  a  tent  and  Fuentes  the  man  ex 
claimed,  in  furious  Spanish: 

"  There  they  are !  The  murderers !  The  same  peo 
ple  who  killed  at  the  Archilette!  Curses  on  them!  " 

A  bare-footed,  bare-skinned,  under-sized  tribe  they 
were,  ill-looking,  their  hair  tied  in  a  knot  atop  their 
sharp,  restless-eyed  faces.  Many  of  them  carried 
hooked  sticks,  with  which  they  hauled  out  lizards  and 
other  vermin  from  holes,  to  cook  them  and  eat  them.- 
All  the  men  bore  the  long,  stout  desert  bow,  and  wore  a 
quiver  bristling  with  thirty  or  forty  arrows  fitted  to 
points  of  volcanic  glass,  or  obsidian. 

Every  Indian  who  would  enter  the  lines  of  the 
camp  was  told  to  leave  his  bow  and  arrows  outside; 
but  defying  the  orders  an  old  chief  and  several  com- 

279 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

panions  forced  their  way  in,  bow  in  one  hand,  two  or 
three  arrows  ready  in  the  other,  and  quiver  at  back. 

"  Vamose !  Puk-a-chee !  Get  out !  Outside !  "  were 
volleyed  at  him  the  cries;  and  he  impudently  put  his 
fingers  in  his  ears,  as  sign  that  he  could  not  hear. 

Gazing  about  the  camp,  he  counted  on  his  fingers 
the  inmates — including  a  mule  that  was  being  shod! 
He  counted  twenty-two. 

"  Why,  there  are  none  of  you,"  he  jeered.  "  But 

of  us "  and  he  pointed  to  the  hills  and  mountains, 

"  there  are  many,  many."  He  pointed  to  the  rifles, 
of  which  he  appeared  to  think  little.  "  You  have 
those."  He  twanged  his  bow.  "  We  have  these!  " 

Up  sprang  Kit  Carson,  who  had  been  sitting  near. 
His  tanned  face  was  white-hot,  his  grayish  eyes  flamed 
bright  blue.  The  filthy  Indian's  contemptuous,  ignor 
ant  words  had  stung  him  to  the  quick.  He  was  the 
Kit  Carson  of  the  Kiowa  fight,  at  the  wagon-train 
corral  on  the  Santa  Fe  Trail.  Not  since  then  had 
Oliver  witnessed  him  so  angry. 

He  had  cocked  his  rifle;  with  one  hand  he  clenched 
it,  and  the  other  hand  he  shook  under  the  Indian's 
nose. 

"  Don't  say  that,  old  man !  "  he  bade,  in  short,  stern 
tone.  "  Don't  say  that,  unless  you  want  to  die." 

He  spoke  in  English;  and  the  old  chief  recoiled, 
his  eyes  darting  the  venom  of  a  snake's,  as  if  he 
understood. 

Oliver  stepped  forward,  ready  to  help  the  man  he 

280 


POOR  TABEAU  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

loved.    Through  the  camp  sped  the  click  of  gun-locks. 

"  Steady,  Kit,"  now  warned  the  lieutenant, 
alarmed.  "  We're  avoiding  trouble,  remember.  He's 
only  an  ignorant  Digger." 

"  No  Injun,  Digger  or  not,  can  come  into  camp 
whar  I  am  an'  talk  that  way.  We're  boss  in  this  camp ; 
it's  our  camp,"  declaimed  Kit,  still  angry.  "  They  can 
insult  us  from  outside,  'cause  that  air  Injun  way;  but 
if  we  once  get  to  letting  'em  in,  with  arms,  they'll 
massacree  us,  sure.  This  ought  to  be  stopped  right  at 
the  start,  captain."  And  again  he  applied  himself  to 
the  hateful  old  chief.  "Get  out!  Go!"  Pointing, 
with  stamp  of  foot,  while  he  relaxed  not  his  glare,  Kit 
Carson  at  that  moment  looked  to  Oliver  as  fancy 
once  had  painted  him — eight  feet  tall  and  four  broad. 

Slightly  wilting,  but  defiant,  the  old  chief  and  his 
squad  reluctantly  slunk  away. 

"  Well,"  commented  the  lieutenant,  when  all 
breathed  easier,  "  that  old  fellow  was  nearer  his  end 
than  he  ever  will  be  again  until  he  meets  it." 

Several  horses  and  mules  had  been  left  behind,  on 
the  trail,  to  be  brought  along,  later,  after  they  had 
rested.  Thomas  Fitzpatrick,  who  had  gone  back  after 
them,  now  reported  that  they  had  been  killed  by  the 
Indians,  cut  up,  and  the  fragments  spread  upon  the 
brush,  to  cure.  This  evening  the  lieutenant  turned 
over  to  some  of  the  Indians  another  horse,  for  a  feast ; 
but  instead  of  pleasing  the  tribe  it  only  made  those 
Indians  who  got  none  the  more  insulting. 

281 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

It  was  the  late  afternoon  of  May  9,  and  the  com 
pany  had  travelled  twenty-eight  miles  up  the  Virgin 
River  from  the  point  where,  twenty  miles  across  from 
the  Muddy,  they  had  struck  it.  Now  they  were  en 
camped  in  the  northwestern  corner  of  Arizona,  at  the 
foot  of  the  Beaver  Dam  Mountains,  and  about  opposite 
the  stream  which  here  comes  into  the  Virgin.  The 
camp  was  drowsy,  after  long  and  ceaseless  vigils.  A 
high  wind  had  died  away  to  merely  a  faint  breeze  which 
scarcely  disturbed  the  summer  temperature.  Over  the 
mountain  ranges  to  the  north  rested  masses  of  white 
cloud,  which  the  sun,  about  to  set,  was  tinging  pink. 
A  strong  horse-guard  was  out  with  the  animals,  in 
charge  of  Baptiste  Tabeau.  Two  sentries  watched  the 
camp,  from  either  end.  Most  of  the  members  off  duty 
were  dozing;  but  the  hour  was  at  hand  when  the  mess 
fires  must  be  built  up.  The  lieutenant  had  been  asleep, 
in  his  lodge,  for  three  hours.  The  outlines  of  him 
could  be  seen,  through  the  open  flaps,  and  under  the 
raised  edges. 

As  Oliver,  who  was  sitting  cleaning  his  rifle, 
glanced  at  him  again,  the  lieutenant  stirred,  as  if 
awake ;  at  that  moment  Kit  Carson,  buckskin-clad,  wiry 
little  man,  came  striding  quick,  rifle,  as  customary,  in 
hollow  of  left  arm. 

''  You  awake,  captain?  " 

"Yes.     What  is  it?" 

"  Haven't  seen  Tabeau,  have  you  ?  " 


POOR  TABEAU  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

"  Baptiste?  "  The  lieutenant  sat  up.  "  No.  He's 
on  horse-guard,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"  Wall,  he  rode  down  the  trail,  after  his  lame  mule 
we  left  at  t'other  camp  a  mile  below." 

"Hasn't  he  come  back?" 

"  Haven't  seen  him." 

"  How  long  ago?  " 

"  This  morning." 

"  What  I '''  The  lieutenant  hastily  stood.  "  Who 
gave  him  permission?  " 

"  Don't  know.  He  tuk  it,  I  reckon.  Knew  we 
needed  the  mule." 

"  I've  been  asleep  for  some  time.  He  may  have 
come  into  camp."  The  lieutenant  spied  Oliver.  "  Have 
you  seen  Tabeau,  boy?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

The  lieutenant  joined  Kit,  outside  the  lodge. 

"  This  must  be  looked  into.  He  ought  not  to  have 
done  it — he  ought  to  have  notified  us  and  have  taken 
a  squad." 

"  It  war  only  a  mile,  he  said;  so  I  hear,"  observed 
Kit. 

"  A  mile  is  a  long  way,  in  Injun  country,  Kit. 
Hello!  What's  that?  "  and  the  lieutenant  pointed. 

The  eyes  of  all  persons  thus  notified  leaped  to  the 
spot.  About  a  mile  below,  or  down  the  river,  had  up- 
welled  into  the  calm  evening  air  a  column  of  thick 
white  smoke. 

'Tabeau's     gone,"     exclaimed     Kit,      instantly. 

283 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

"  That's  a  coup  smoke,  to  tell  a  scalp's  been  taken  an* 
everybody  should  look  out !  " 

"  You  think  it  means  Tabeau,  then?  " 

"  Sartin.  That's  whar  he  started  for — that  cotton- 
wood  grove  whar  the  camp  war.  The  smoke's  at  the 
very  place." 

"  Take  whatever  you  can  get  the  quickest  and  go 
down  there  at  once,"  ordered  the  lieutenant.  "  If 
you  ride  hard  you  may  not  be  too  late." 

"  We'll  ride  hard,  but  we'll  be  too  late,  captain," 
answered  Kit,  already  striding  away. 

As  he  passed,  he  responded  to  Oliver's  appealing 
gaze. 

"That  rifle  ready?"  He  must  have  noticed  the 
cleaning  operation. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Get  yore  hoss  an'  come  along.  See  that  you  don't 
lack  powder,  lead  or  caps."  And  not  having  paused, 
Kit  Carson  continued  upon  his  own  way. 

Quickly  spread  the  word,  that  Baptiste  Tabeau  had 
been  "  wiped  out."  Many  more  volunteers  offered 
themselves  to  Kit  than  he  could  use.  Everybody  liked 
Tabeau ;  everybody  wished  to  succor  him,  or  to  avenge 
him.  However,  Kit  deemed  that  a  small  party,  if  well- 
armed,  would  be  enough ;  so  he  chose  Oliver,  and  Bap 
tiste  Bernier,  Charles  Townes,  Godey,  and  Thomas 
Fitzpatrick — mountain-men  all. 

Scarcely  a  word  was  spoken,  as  they  galloped  forth. 
The  errand  was  one  of  sorrow  and  grim  determination. 

284 


POOR  TABEAU  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

The  mile  was  covered,  and  the  last  night's  camping 
place  lay  right  ahead.  Now  the  high,  gloomy  ridges 
bordering  the  Virgin  were  closing  down,  and  the 
camping  place  appeared  sombre.  Extending  their 
front  the  posse  rode  right  in — eye  and  ear  and  finger 
ready;  but  it  was  as  silent  and  deserted  as  had  been 
the  Hernandez  Spring  at  the  Archilette.  Of  Baptiste 
and  his  horse,  and  of  the  lame  mule  which  he  had 
quested,  not  a  trace  could  be  found. 

"  Better  ride  on  down,"  suggested  Charles  Townes. 

"  Ought  to  search  those  cotton  woods,  across,"  said 
Kit. 

"  That's  a  risky  business,  in  the  dark,  when  Injuns 
are  better  than  white  men,"  remarked  Thomas  Fitz- 
patrick,  nevertheless  urging  his  horse  into  the  water. 
Oliver  promptly  did  the  same. 

"I  know  it,  Tom,"  answered  Kit.  "  But  we'll 
have  to  take  the  risk." 

Alexander  Godey  interrupted.  He  had  been  exam 
ining  for  sign,  on  down  the  trail. 

"  Here,"  he  called.  "  I  find  it!  The  lame  mule, 
an'  the  savages  beside  him.  En  avant,  camarades! 
The  savages  would  drive  off  the  mule,  an'  Baptiste,  he 
follows." 

Godey  had  read  truly.  Where  he  awaited,  in  the 
dusk  could  be  descried,  imprinted  upon  the  sandy 
dust,  hoof-marks  of  a  hobbling  mule,  pointing  back 
down  the  trail,  with  the  bare  soles  of  Indians  on  either 
side  of  them.  Moreover,  the  hoof-marks  of  a  horse, 

285 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

probably  Tabeau's  horse,  also  were  to  be  descried, 
pointing  in  the  same  direction,  but  printed  upon  the 
others — therefore  later. 

So  they  followed  the  trail.  After  about  an  hour 
of  steady,  silent  riding,  a  rustle  in  some  bushes  was 
heard. 

"S-st!"  warned  Kit. 

They  halted,  short,  and  peered,  and  listened,  hold 
ing  breath.  Kit  and  Godey  slipped  from  their  horses, 
to  steal  forward,  noiseless  as  shadows.  Presently  they 
returned,  as  silently. 

"It's  the  mule,"  reported  Kit.  "It's  the  lame 
mule,  with  an  arrow  in  her  side,  standing  thar,  to  die. 
They  shot  her  an'  left  her  till  they'd  come  back." 

"  Anything  of  Baptiste  ?  "  demanded  Fitzpatrick. 

"  We  found  a  wet  place — wet  an'  sticky — in  the 
brush.  Too  dark  to  say  jest  what  it  air,"  stated  Kit, 
succinctly.  "  But  it,  an'  the  smoke,  taken  together, 
strike  me  as  bad.  Don't  believe  we  can  do  more  till 
daylight.  We  mout  as  well  go  back  to  camp." 

That  was  agreed ;  and  sorrowfully  again  they  rode 
up  the  trail,  soon  to  be  guided  by  the  glow  of  the  camp 
fires. 

Little  doubt  could  there  be  as  to  Baptiste  Tabeau's 
fate,  but  of  course  his  disappearance  must  be  probed  to 
a  certainty.  At  day-break  the  lieutenant  himself,  with 
Thomas  Fitzpatrick  and  Kit  and  Godey  and  several 
others  (Oliver  being  assigned  to  guard  duties),  de- 


POOR  TABEAU  PAYS  THE  PRICE 

parted  for  the  wounded-mule  brush,  in  search  of 
further  sign. 

When  they  returned,  about  noon,  they  brought 
only  the  news  which  had  been  feared.  Daylight  had 
shown  the  worst:  crimson  stains  and  crushed  bushes 
where  Baptiste  must  have  been  pierced  with  an  arrow ; 
a  crimson  path  for  twenty  paces,  where  he  had  desper 
ately  struggled  along ;  a  spot  where  he  had  fallen ;  and 
then  the  trace  where  he  had  been  dragged  to  the  river 
and  thrown  in.  A  shred  of  leather,  from  his  saddle, 
was  found;  but  all  else — horse,  gun,  clothing — had 
vanished  completely.  The  Diggers  had  taken  them. 
Even  the  wounded  mule  was  gone. 

Thus,  May  9,  1844,  perished  wilderness-breaker 
Baptiste  Tabeau,  Fremont  man  from  St.  Louis.  The 
place  of  his  death  is  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Virgin 
River  in  northwestern  Arizona.  So,  in  many  a  lonely 
spot,  sleep  the  brave;  their  monument  their  deeds 
achieved  for  others. 


XXIII 
THE  HOME  STRETCH 


FAIN  would  the  Fremont  and  Carson  men  have 
taken  the  war  trail  and  have  avenged  the  murder  of 
their  comrade;  but  their  horses  and  mules  were  crip 
pled,  the  country  was  vast  and  strange,  they  must  push 
onward  to  safety.  So  they  headed,  as  before,  into  the 
northward.  Amidst  the  general  mutterings  of  anger 
and  bated  revenge  Kit  Carson  it  was  who  remarked, 
quietly : 

"  Wall,  the  Good  Book  says  something  about  reap 
ing  whar  we  have  sowed.  White  men  did  the  fust 
killing,  when  the  Joe  Walker  party  shot  down  these 
hyar  same  Diggers,  on  the  march  across  from  the  Salt 
Lake  in  Thirty-three.  Now  thar's  war,  an'  thar  ever 
will  be,  an'  the  white  man  air  to  blame,  but  the  Injun'll 
suffer  most." 

The  country  grew  better,  in  appearance ;  cedars  and 
pines  flourished  upon  the  hills,  birds  were  present,  and 
before  uplifted  snowy  mountains  of  a  loftier  range. 
At  the  Vegas  de  Santa  Clara,  or  the  Meadows  of  Santa 
Clara,  near  to  the  Virgin  River,  the  company  were  in 
southwestern  Utah. 

The  Fremont  and  Carson  company  could  delay 


THE  HOME  STRETCH 

only  a  day  at  the  pleasant  Meadows.  Soon  after  leav 
ing  the  camping  place  they  noted  a  moving  cloud  of 
dust  on  the  trail  behind ;  out  of  the  dust  cloud  evolved 
hurrying  figures — a  little  squad  of  horsemen. 

"  Whites !  "  pronounced  Kit,  at  once.  "  Ameri 
cans,  too — an'  ride  like  trappers."  And — "  If  that 
airn't  old  Joe  Walker,  leading  'em,  I'll  eat  him,"  he 
added. 

The  pursuing  squad,  nine  riders,  and  several  pack- 
animals,  drew  on  at  fast  trot.  The  foremost  was  a 
horseman  splendidly  large  of  stature,  with  plentiful 
gray  whiskers  covering  cheeks  and  chin.  He  threw 
up  his  hand  in  salute ;  Kit  and  the  lieutenant  answered 
in  kind. 

"  Hello,  Kit,"  he  called. 

"  Hello,  Joe.    Whar  you  bound  ?  " 

He  had  arrived,  and  pulled  short. 

"  Jest  looking  for  company.  Saw  your  sign  down 
the  trail,  an'  started  on  to  overtake  ye." 

"  Wall,  you've  done  it,"  commented  Kit,  coolly. 
Whereupon  he  introduced  to  one  another  the  lieuten 
ant  and  Captain  Joe  Walker,  mountain-man,  trapper, 
trader,  guide. 

The  captain  had  started  from  Los  Angeles  with 
the  annual  main  caravan  for  Santa  Fe.  Seeing  the 
trail  of  the  Fremont  and  Carson  company,  with  eight 
men,  Americans  all,  he  boldly  had  set  out,  across  the 
desert,  to  catch  the  expedition.  That  was  just  like  old 
Joe  Walker,  Kit  Carson  afterwards  declared.  They 

19  289 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

had  fought  with  the  Diggers,  killing  two  and  in  turn 
receiving  wounds  among  the  horses;  and  here  they 
were. 

For  such  a  fighter  and  adventurer  Captain  Joe 
Walker  bore  a  singularly  mild,  although  determined 
visage,  from  which  clear  blue  eyes  peered  out,  above 
the  whiskers.  Oliver  was  attracted  by  him  at  once, 
and  was  glad  when  he  heard  him  agree  to  guide  the 
company  across  the  mountains,  ahead.  He  had  made 
a  specialty  of  the  Great  Basin  and  the  approaches  to 
it,  and  had  traded  much  among  the  Utes,  whose  coun 
try  bordered  it  on  the  east  of  the  Salt  Lake.  Therefore 
the  region  now  toward  the  northeast  was  familiar  to 
him. 

In  central  Utah  the  Old  Spanish  Trail  turned  short, 
and  east  and  southeast  ran  down  for  Santa  Fe.  This 
would  be  the  direct  route  for  Taos  and  even  for  Bent's 
Fort;  but  the  lieutenant  wished  to  visit  a  lake  called 
Utah  Lake,  near  to  the  Salt  Lake;  thence  cross  the 
mountains  back  of  the  Salt  Lake  and  working  over  to 
the  head  of  the  Arkansas  River,  follow  it  down  to 
Bent's  Fort.  The  Calif ornians  Andres  Fuentes  and 
Pablo  the  boy  decided  to  stay  with  the  company,  in 
stead  of  going  direct  to  Santa  Fe. 

So  from  the  turn  of  the  Old  Spanish  Trail  the 
course  was  still  northward,  with  the  Wasatch  Moun 
tains  (the  same  which  skirted  on  the  east  the  Great 
Salt  Lake)  snowy  at  thje  right.  They  were  greeted  as 

290 


THE  HOME  STRETCH 

friends ;  good  they  looked  to  Kit  Carson  and  the  other 
mountain-men. 

The  Sevier  River  barred  the  way.  In  California  a 
river,  barring,  had  been  crossed  by  means  of  hides 
removed  from  freshly  slaughtered  cattle  and  stretched 
upon  sticks.  The  Fremont  and  Carson  company  now 
had  no  cattle  left;  but  undefeated,  out  of  bundles  of 
bulrushes  they  fashioned  sharp-pointed  rafts. 

At  this  crossing,  of  the  Sevier  River,  central  Utah, 
May  23,  1844,  was  killed  by  accident  Frangois  Badeau, 
who  shot  himself  through  the  head  in  drawing  toward 
him  his  gun,  muzzle  first.  He  was  buried  upon  the 
bank  of  the  stream,  and  there  are  his  bones,  to-day. 
He,  too,  had  paid  the  adventurer's  price,  as  well  as, 
in  his  case,  the  price  of  foolishness.  The  muzzle  of  a 
gun  always  is  dangerous. 

Lovely  Utah  Lake  unfolded  to  the  view.  It  was 
the  property  of  the  Ute  or  Utah  Indians,  who  made 
of  it  their  fishing  preserve. 

Only  some  thirty  miles  to  the  north,  and  connected 
by  a  river  was  the  Great  Salt  Lake  where  in  the 
previous  September  the  company  had  encamped. 
Therefore  had  they  almost  completed  an  immense  circle 
of  3300  miles,  and  after  nearly  nine  months  they  were 
within  thirty  miles  of  the  starting  point. 

Nevertheless,  they  had  not  crossed  the  Great  Basin ; 
they  had  only  skirted  it,  seeking  an  entrance.  How 
ever,  even  the  veteran  Joe  Walker  could  give  little 
definite  information  upon  that  unknown  interior. 

291 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 


"  No,  sir ;  I  never  have  been  into  the  desert,  west 
o'  here,"  he  declared,  to  the  lieutenant.  "  I've  been  in 
by  north,  along*  the  Mary's  River,  an'  I've  been  in 
by  south,  along  the  Spanish  Trail ;  but  not  by  the  mid 
dle.  The  Diggers  can  tell  little.  But  I'm  pretty  sure 
o'  one  thing :  there  are  no  rivers  flowing  out,  to  any  sea. 
The  desert  has  its  own  system  o'  lakes  an'  rivers.  It's 
evaporation  that  drains  the  basin,  an'  not  outflowing. 
There's  no  Buenaventura,  sir." 

"  I  believe  so,  myself,"  agreed  the  lieutenant.  "  I've 
prepared  what  I  shall  report ;  namely :  '  The  Great 
Basin:  four  hundred  miles  long,  five  hundred  miles 
wide,  surrounded  by  lofty  mountains ;  contents  almost 
unknown,  but  believed  to  be  rivers  and  lakes  which  have 
no  communication  with  the  sea,  deserts  and  oases  which 
have  never  been  explored,  and  animals  and  savage 
tribes  which  no  traveller  has  seen.'  Next  time  I  hope 
to  go  into  it,  and  fathom  some  of  its  mysteries.  We 
shall  be  better  prepared.  A  good  place  to  strike  next 
time  is  right  through  this  gap  of  thirty  miles;  say  by 
way  of  the  south  end  of  the  Salt  Lake." 

"  When  do  you  calculate  to  make  the  trip?  n  queried 
Captain  Walker. 

"  Next  spring  and  summer.  Kit  has  promised  to 
come.  Do  you  think  you  will  be  free,  captain?  We'll 
need  a  good  guide  for  the  desert;  I'd  like  to  engage 
you." 

"  I'll  do  it,"  said  the  captain. 

Entrancing  to-day  is  this  Utah  Lake,  of  fresh  water 

293 


THE  HOME  STRETCH 

lying  blue  between  the  snowy  Wasatch  and  the  hazy 
Oquirrh  or  Squirrel  Ranges,  with  the  Great  Salt  Lake 
showing  silver  sheen  amidst  the  lowlands  to  the  west 
of  north.  When  on  May  25  the  Fremont  and  Carson 
company  arrived,  two  villages  of  Utes  were  encamped 
by  the  lake,  waiting  for  the  fish  to  ascend  into  the 
rivers.  These  fish  were  salmon-trout,  but  not  so  large 
and  so  tasty  as  the  salmon-trout  of  the  Pyramid  Lake, 
far  across  the  desert. 

Attractive  though  the  spot  was,  the  Fremont  and 
Carson  company  must  not  linger ;  the  Utes  were  greedy 
and  troublesome,  the  trail  yet  was  long,  for  more  than 
a  year  the  lieutenant  had  been  cut  off  from  news  of 
home,  well-nigh  for  a  year  Kit  had  not  heard  from  his 
bride. 

Under  guidance  of  Captain  Walker,  up  the  Spanish 
Fork  River  which  from  eastward  enters  the  Utah  Lake 
they  journeyed,  and  from  the  head  of  the  Spanish 
Fork  River  north  into  the  Uintah  country  of  present 
northeastern  Utah.  Here,  latitude  40°  27'  45",  longi 
tude  109°  56'  42",  at  the  first  forks  of  the  Uintah 
River,  above  where  it  empties  into  the  mighty  Green, 
was  the  fur-trading  post  of  Fort  Uintah,  whose  owner, 
lean,  swarthy  Antoine  Roubideau,  or  Robidoux,  was  a 
Taos  man. 

At  Fort  Uintah  was  enrolled  by  the  lieutenant 
Auguste  Archambeau,  a  Canadian  Frenchman,  who 
wished  to  go  on  to  Missouri,  and  who  enlisted  as  a 
hunter.  Auguste  speedily  made  himself  a  favorite,  for 

293 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

he  was  well  built,  cheerful,  and  a  mountain-man  equal 
to  Alexander  Godey. 

On  through  rich  mountain  country,  along  the  bor 
derline  of  northwestern  Colorado  and  southwestern 
Wyoming,  rode  the  company;-  as  they  went,  feasting 
upon  buffalo,  for  the  hunters'  rifles  were  ever  busy. 
In  the  morning  of  June  13  the  Continental  Divide  of 
the  Rockies  was  topped,  and  with  a  cheer  all  hailed  a 
little  stream  trickling  for  the  east.  This  was  the 
Atlantic  Slope  of  the  continent;  it  was  the  United 
States. 

Flowers  bloomed,  aspens  quivered,  grass  and  bush 
spread  fresh  and  green,  clear  and  cold  ran  the  streams, 
and  on  every  side  grazed  buffalo,  elk,  and  antelope. 
South  through  the  North  Park  of  Colorado  turned  the 
march,  and  down  into  Middle  Park,  where  rise  the 
waters  of  the  Grand  River  flowing  west  to  join  with 
the  Green. 

But  although  glorious  appeared  the  landscape,  and 
"  fat  "  it  was  with  game,  Utes,  Arapahoe  and  Sioux 
made  of  it  a  battle-ground;  therefore  the  march  must 
be  cautious.  Each  night  the  camp  was  fortified;  by 
day  scouts  were  thrown  out,  ahead,  from  high  places 
to  examine  the  country. 

The  road  was  one  made  by  buffalo,  but  it  also  was 
one  used  by  the  Indians;  and  according  to  the  mocca 
sins  found  upon  it,  and  the  traces  of  lodge-poles,  an 
Arapahoe  village  must  be  travelling,  before.  The  lieu 
tenant  and  Kit  and  all  hoped  that  a  meeting  might  be 

294, 


THE  HOME  STRETCH 

avoided;  but  on  the  morning  of  June  18  Archambeau 
and  Godey,  among  the  scouts  ahead,  from  a  butte 
shook  a  blanket,  as  signal  of  Indians  in  sight! 

"  Close  up,  close  up !  "  warned  the  lieutenant  and 
Joe  Walker;  and  in  response  to  the  word  transmitted 
adown  the  line  Thomas  Fitzpatrick  hastened  his  pack- 
train.  The  flankers  drew  in  a  little;  and  at  faster 
pace  proceeded  the  company,  as  a  hollow  square,  ani 
mals  in  centre. 

"  Thar  they  come,"  announced  Kit.  "  'Rapahoes, 
too.  Humph !  Treat  'em  as  well  as  we  can  an'  get  rid 
of  'em  quick  as  we  can.  They'll  be  spoiling  for  a 
fight." 

Along  the  valley  were  trudging  and  riding  about 
thirty  Indians,  both  women  and  men.  They  boldly 
met  the  company,  and  demanded  presents.  They 
claimed  that  they  were  going  into  the  hills  after  roots 
and  game;  but  instead,  as  the  cavalcade  resumed  the 
march,  the  bucks  wheeled  around  and  galloped  back 
in  the  direction  where  they  said  they  had  left  their 
village. 

"  We'd  better  be  forting,"  counselled  Joe  Walker. 
"  Did  you  know  any  of  'em,  Kit  ?  " 

"  Never  saw  one  of  'em  at  Bent's,  as  I  remember," 
confessed  Kit. 

Down  to  the  Grand  River  hurried  the  company,  and 
to  some  willows  between  the  channel  and  an  over 
flowed  meadow.  They  had  no  time  to  fort  further, 
even  by  piling  up  their  packs,  when  on  came  again 

295 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

the  Arapahoes,  fully  200,  painted  and  flourishing 
weapons  and  apparently  eager  for  a  fight. 

"  Set  that  flag  out,  in  front,  somebody  who  talks 
Arapahoe,  and  tell  them  if  they  pass  it,  we  fire," 
ordered  the  lieutenant. 

Alexander  Godey  grabbed  it;  but  Kit  Carson  rode 
out  with  him.  They  planted  the  staff  in  the  moist 
ground,  and  standing  by  the  Stars  and  Stripes  signed 
to  the  Indians  to  halt.  Kit  shouted  the  instructions. 
Two  of  the  Indians  rode  forward,  in  token  of  parley. 

"  One  o'  them's  a  Sioux,"  asserted  Thomas  Fitz- 
patrick.  "  Isn't  that  so,  Auguste  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  is,"  affirmed  Archambeau.  "  Sioux  an' 
'Rapahoe  together  mek  it  bad ;  eh  ?  " 

The  conference  soon  dissolved,  and  with  one  of  the 
Indians  Kit  loped  back  to  the  willows;  Godey  remained, 
amicably  squatting  and  talking  with  the  other. 

"  They're  'Rapahoes,  an'  some  Sioux,"  explained 
Kit.  "  This  hyar's  an  old  Sioux  chief,  who  wants  to 
meet  our  head  chief." 

The  old  Sioux — a  grizzled,  stout,  but  fine-looking 
veteran,  wearing  a  necklace  o*f  grizzly-bear  claws — 
shook  hands  warmly  with  the  lieutenant,  and  delivered 
a  harangue.  Kit  translated. 

"  He  says  he's  always  been  friendly  to  the  whites. 
'Fore  that  gang  started  from  the  village  they  held  a 
council,  an'  most  of  'em  voted  to  attack  us,  'cause 
we'd  been  with  the  Utes,  an'  like  as  not  had  sold  'em 
guns  an'  ammunition.  But  the  Sioux,  an'  a  few 

296 


THE  HOME  STRETCH 

'Rapahoes  who'd  seen  us  last  year  on  the  plains,  an' 
knew  about  us,  voted  ag'in  it.  He  says  the  Sioux  air 
pore,  an'  ought  to  be  given  a  lot  o'  valuable  presents 
for  the  way  they  voted.  I  expect  the  'Rapahoes'll 
want  as  much." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  groaned  the  lieutenant.  "  No  mat 
ter  how  they  voted,  they'll  want  the  presents." 

Therefore  presents  were  liberally  distributed,  under 
the  folds  of  the  Flag,  -gently  waving,  perhaps  for  the 
first  time,  here  beside  the  Grand  River  in  north  central 
Colorado. 

Through  Middle  Park  the  trail  continued,  and  so 
did  the  evidences  of  the  Arapahoes.  At  the  south  end 
of  the  park  six  beaver  trappers  were  met.  They  in 
formed  the  lieutenant  that  two  of  their  party  already 
had  been  killed  by  the  Arapahoes,  and  that  if  he  would 
wait  they  would  like  to  pack  up  and  get  out.  He  sent 
Kit  and  Archambeau  and  Godey  with  them,  to  help. 

When  the  squad  again  joined  the  command,  they 
brought  alarming  news.  Near  the  trapper  camp  they 
had  suddenly  been  stayed  by  a  band  of  Arapahoes, 
much  excited.  The  Arapahoes  said  that  their  people 
were  about  to  make  a  great  attack  upon  the  Utes,  in  the 
Bayou  Salade  (which  as  South  Park  lies  adjacent  to 
Middle  Park,  on  the  south),  and  that  they  had  been 
sent  to  guide  the  white  men  back  that  they  might  help 
the  Arapahoes  kill  the  Utahs !  Kit  had  answered  that 
the  white  men  were  far  ahead,  and  would  join  them  in 

297 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

the  Bayou  Salade.  Whereupon  the  Arapahoe  scouts 
rode  off  to  their  people.  Kit  chuckled. 

"  We'll  have  to  take  care  an'  not  meet  'em.  They've 
got  us  in  a  tight  corner.  Back  yonder  on  the  river  we 
swore  we  war  the  'Rapahoe's  friend,  an'  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  Ute  nation.  Now  if  we  won't  help  our 
friends  fight,  what  air  we  ?  An'  if  we  do  help  'em  fight, 
whar'll  we  be,  with  the  Utes." 

"  Well,  it  isn't  our  quarrel,  that's  sure,"  declared 
the  lieutenant.  "  The  Indians  can  fight  their  own 
fights,  and  we'll  mind  our  own  business.  The  Arapa- 
hoes  would  like  nothing  better  than  to  array  the  Utes 
against  us." 

Southward  still,  over  the  dividing  range  into  the 
South  Park  they  hastened;  and  at  the  western  verge 
sounded  the  warning,  again : 

"Injuns  !  Injuns!" 

A  mounted  party  of  dusky,  long-haired  figures  were 
descending  from  a  ridge  which  intersected  the  valley, 
before.  If  these  were  pesky  Arapahoes,  once  more, 
perhaps  seeking  the  white  men  to  escort  them  to  the 
battle,  then  the  company  must  watch  out. 

"  Make  for  those  islands,  boys,"  ordered  the  lieu 
tenant;  and  into  the  shallow  river,  to  a  willow  patch, 
plashed  the  Fremont  and  Carson  men. 

'  Those  are  squaws,"  cried  Captain  Walker. 

Ute  squaws  they  proved  to  be.  They  eagerly 
hastened  to  the  company,  and  with  gestures  and  loud 
exclamations  and  weeping  told  their  story.  Beyond  the 


THE  HOME  STRETCH 

ridge  was  their  village;  early  that  morning  the 
Arapahoes  had  charged  it,  killed  four  men  including 
the  head  chief,  and  driven  off  many  horses  to  a  forted 
hollow  a  mile  belo,w.  But  the  brave  Ute  warriors, 
300,  had  rallied  and  pursued  them;  and  now  a  great 
fight  was  in  progress.  If  the  white  men  would  help 
the  Utes  their  friends  kill  those  dogs  of  Arapahoes, 
they  should  have  the  best  horses  at  the  village  to  carry 
them  into  the  battle. 

"  Let's  get  out  o'  hyar.  Have  to  get  out  o'  hyar. 
More  trouble,"  announced  Kit,  shaking  his  head  at  the 
clamor  of  the  Ute  women. 

Speedily  the  cavalcade  was  put  in  motion,  to  aban 
don  the  dangerous  neighborhood.  Vainly  the  Ute 
women  followed,  urging,  wailing,  and  plucking  at  the 
clothing  of  the  white  men,  to  bid  them  join  in  the  fight. 
Turning  off  at  the  ridge,  and  keeping  it  between  them 
and  the  village,  with  a  line  of  scouts  riding  the  summit 
to  watch  the  other  side,  the  company  left  the  valley 
as  rapidly  as  possible.  Soon  the  women  must  cease 
their  urging,  and  gallop  back  to  their  village.  The 
spiteful  cracks  of  rifles,  and  the  whoops  of  the  red 
warriors,  now  were  plainly  heard ;  gazing  down  from  a 
break  in  the  ridge  Oliver  and  all  could  see  the  Ute 
village,  in  disorder,  with  dead  and  wounded  being  hur 
riedly  brought  in.  However,  according  to  the  Ute 
women,  their  braves  were  having  the  best  of  the  fight. 
It  was  the  opinion  of  Kit  and  other  mountain-men, 

299 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

also,  that  warrior  for  warrior,  the  Utes  could  whip 
the  Arapahoes. 

With  course  southeast,  the  company  crossed  from 
the  South  Park  to  the  tributaries  of  the  Upper 
Arkansas ;  and  penetrating  through  the  rugged  country 
lying  between  Cripple  Creek  and  Canon  City,  Colorado, 
on  June  28  arrived  at  the  Arkansas  River  itself.  Old 
friend  was  the  Arkansas,  for  now  below,  on  it,  waited 
Bent's  Fort,  at  the  crossroads  of  the  long  trail. 

At  sunset  of  June  29  the  settlement  of  the  Pueblo 
was  reached.  Here  the  six  trappers  stopped,  and  here 
Kit  received  word  that  all  was  well  at  Taos.  Now 
Bent's  Fort  was  but  seventy-five  miles.  The  trail 
along  the  Arkansas  was  broad  and  well  beaten;  the 
animals  appeared  to  know  that  something  especial  was 
just  before,  and  they  travelled  briskly. 

Ere  mid-morning  of  the  second  day,  July  i,  from 
the  advance  Oliver,  greeting  many  a  familiar  object, 
spied  it,  ahead — that  one  object  for  which  in  particular 
had  he  been  peering:  the  plains  citadel  of  Bent's  Fort. 
Amidst  the  fringe  of  cotton  woods  its  massy  dun  clay 
walls  were  limned  against  the  flowering  herbage  and 
the  sage. 

"  Hooray !  Hooray !  "  Hats  flew  into  the  air,  and 
the  reports  of  the  carbines  and  rifles  were  answered 
by  cannon. 

The  flag  of  the  ramparts  was  streaming  to  welcome 
the  flag  of  the  cavalcade;  and  as  the  cavalcade  drew 

300 


THE  HOME  STRETCH    , 

nearer,  several  horsemen  dashed  from  the  gate-way,  to 
give  personal  greeting. 

"  Thar's  George  Bent.  Reckon  William  air  away," 
commented  Kit. 

George  Bent  it  was,  younger  brother  of  William, 
but  a  partner  in  the  Bent,  St.  Vrain  &  Co.  firm.  He 
was  much  at  Taos. 

"Hello,  George/' 

"How  are  you,  Kit?  Hello,  Joe!  Where'd  you 
hail  from  ?  Come  right  along  into  the  post,  gentlemen. 
Glad  to  see  you  back.  How  far  have  you  been?  " 

"  'Bout  six  thousand  miles,"  answered  Kit. 
"  How's  my  wife,  George  ?  " 

"  Very  well  indeed,  Kit.  Nothing  has  changed 
since  you  left,  I  believe.  Let's  see — just  about  a  year, 
isn't  it?  We've  all  been  looking  for  you.  They'd 
almost  given  you  up  for  lost,  in  the  States,  lieutenant." 

Thus  speaking,  George  Bent  conducted  the  com 
pany  to  the  post. 

This  was  to  Kit  a  second  home :  but  he  was  anxious 
to  turn  south  for  his  first  home — old  Taos,  where 
bided  Josefa,  his  young  wife.  Oliver  was  as  ready, 
for  at  Taos  was  Ike,  maybe,  or  Sol,  or  William  New, 
to  whom  to  tell  tales  of  the  trail  that  they  had  missed. 

However,  at  the  post  a  "  big  "  Fourth  of  July  had 
been  planned.  The  lieutenant  had  decided  to  stay  for  a 
banquet,  and  Kit  and  Oliver  must  stay.  So  they  did. 
After  the  feast  Lieutenant  Fremont  himself  asserted 
that  not  even  in  Washington  or  St.  Louis  had  he  ever 

301 


WITH  CARSON  AND  FREMONT 

sat  down  to  a  finer  menu  than  this,  served  in  honor  of 
the  Fourth  and  of  the  expedition,  at  Bent's  Fort  in  the 
Indian  country,  $00  miles  from  the  frontier. 

On  the  fifth  the  lieutenant  was  to  continue  on  for 
Washington.  Fuentes  and  Pablo,  the  two  California 
Mexicans;  the  Chinook  youth  from  the  Dalles  of  the 
Columbia;  and  Sacramento  the  iron-gray  horse  from 
Sutler's  Fort,  remained  with  him  in  his  train.  Captain 
Joe  Walker  wished  to  stay  at  the  post  for  a  time. 
Alexander  Godey  was  to  seek  St.  Vrain's,  his  former 
station.  Kit  and  Oliver  were  for  Taos.  The  lieuten 
ant,  last  of  all,  shook  hands  with  them. 

"  You'll  not  forget  next  year,  Kit  ?  "  he  reminded. 
"  We're  to  try  that  desert  again,  you  know — and  work 
north  from  Sutter's  to  Vancouver.  The  Sacramento 
Valley  calls." 

"  I'll  not  forget,"  promised  Kit.     "  I'll  be  ready." 

"  And  you,  my  lad — you've  had  enough  of  the  ex 
plorer's  trail,  I  fancy,"  addressed  the  lieutenant,  to 
Oliver. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Oliver,  "  I  haven't." 

"  Bravo!  "  laughed  Lieutenant  Fremont.  His  fine 
blue  eyes  flashed.  "  You'll  do.  You're  one  of  my 
company.  You've  got  the  heart  of  a  man,  and  it  takes 
a  man  to  follow  Kit  and  me." 

END. 


THE  TRAIL  BLAZERS  SERIES 

With  Carson  and  Fremont 

By  EDWIN  L.  SABIN 

HT'HE  daily  life  of  these  men  who  worked  together  to  break  the  hostile 

spirit  of  the  Western  wilderness  was  one  filled  with  adventure  and 

danger,  and  this  chronicle,  written  for  boys,  is  almost  a  first-hand 

story  of  the  West  in  the  early  days.     Mr.  Sabin  holds  closely  to  facts,  and 

while  writing  an  entertaining  story   has  still   presented   an  inspiring 

episode  in  American  history. 

Illustrated.     I2mo.     Club,  $1.2$  net.     Postpaid, 


David  Crocket:  Scout 

_  By  CHARLES  FLETCHER  ALLEN 

*  I  \HIS  volume  sets  forth  all  Davy's  versatility  and  recounts  his  many 
exploits  in  the  East  and  in  the  new  Southwest.  It  tells  of  him  as 
Indian  fighter,  bear  hunter,  statesman  and  defender  of  the  Alamo. 

Davy  had  a  keen  sense  of  humor  and  a  lovable  nature,  which  at  once 

endear  him  to  the  reader. 

Colored  frtntitfiece  and  tbree  illustrations  in  black  and  white  by  Frank  McKernan. 
I2mo.     Cloth,  $z.  50. 

Daniel  Boone:  Backwoodsman 

By  C.  H.  FORBES-LINDSAY 

"  Historical  fact  is  made  the  basis  of  convincing  fiction,  and  a  better  book  of  its 
kind  could  not  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  any  American  boy.  Boone  stands  out  as  a 
splendid  figure  of  pioneer  manhood,  who  performed  a  work  of  incalculable  importance 
in  the  settlement  of  Kentucky  by  white  men.  True  narrative  impulse  enters  into  the 
story."  —  Philadelphia  Press. 

Frontispiece  in  color  and  tbree  illustrations.     I2mo.      Cloth,  $r.JO. 

Captain  John  Smith 

By  C.  H.  FORBES-LINDSAY 

"  It's  as  exciting  as  if  it  were  a  tale  of  sword-and-mantle  fiction  by  a  writer  of  the 
Stanley  Weyman  school.  There's  fighting  galore  on  its  pages  ;  wild  adventurimgs  ; 
ups  and  downs  ;  and  all  shot  through  with  an  unconquerable  spirit.  All  of  it  is  true 
and  is  stirring.  It's  good  history,  good  biography  and  mighty  good  reading." 

—  Cleveland  Leader. 
Four  illustrations  in  tolor.     I2mo.      Decorated  cloth,  $f.JO. 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  PHILADELPHIA 


